


Solus

by FettsOnTop (GTFF)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Play, CW: Fertility Issues, CW: Refugee and Immigration Issues, Childhood Trauma (Ben), Clones, Eventual Romance, Extreme Parenting Feels, F/M, Fake Marriage, Found Family, Kryze Family Drama, Lots of major characters have died, Marriage of Convenience, Mentions of Childhood Trauma (Boba), Mutant Powers, Oral Sex, Procreative Sex, Reluctance Roleplay, Sharing a Bed, Smutty Mando'a Lessons, The First Order Tries to Take a Shortcut with Disastrous Results, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2019-07-11 15:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 53,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15975527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GTFF/pseuds/FettsOnTop
Summary: The fledgling First Order has lost control of its first super-weapon and the galaxy has been thrown into chaos. With her husband dead and her brother missing, Leia is determined to protect her young son, even if it means staying in hiding for the rest of her life. Even if it means forging a new alliance with an old enemy, who may have a secret motivation of his own...





	1. Adrift

Twenty-seven days. Twenty-seven days in the belly of an old cruiser, packed into rows like cargo, sleeping on makeshift bunks hung between support beams. She wasn’t Leia Organa here. Not a princess. Not a senator. Just Allennia Joldo, with her hair cut to her chin and lightened. Just another refugee fleeing to the outer rim with her son.

Ben still didn’t understand. Not really. She’d explained to him that they would be using different names and pretending to be from Kuat, but there was only so much she could expect from a six-year old. “We have a special, secret mission,” she told him. “We have to find Uncle Luke.”

“Is Uncle Luke on Mandalore?”

“I don’t know for sure,” she answered, because wherever her brother was he was almost certainly not hiding out on Mandalore. It was just easier than telling her son her truth.

Eighty-nine days since Han’s death. Ninety-two since the invasion of Nakadia. Two-hundred and sixty-four since the fall of Hosnian Prime. A little over three hundred since the Scourge was unleashed on the galaxy.

It all fell apart so quickly in the end. All of their work. All of their sacrifices. Just when the New Republic was starting to feel established, just when a sense of normalcy was settling in. There were still problems, of course, like the clandestine insurgency of the First Order, but she was finally getting support to take military action against them.

Leia wondered sometimes, if she’d played some part in this. If her actions made them desperate.

She would have gladly stayed and fought until the end, if not for Ben. If not for the red eyes that followed her everywhere in her dreams. “His name is Snoke,” Luke told her, as grim as she had ever seen him. “He is strong with the dark side of the force.”

Every time she closed her eyes she could see him. Hear him. Red eyes. A sneering mouth. _The boy. He will be mine._

So, instead of staying to fight, Leia ran to the Outer Rim. She joined millions of other beings seeking asylum in far-flung systems and remote worlds. There were almost twenty thousand refugees aboard _The_ _Star Gazer_ , slowly orbiting the Mandalore system. New people joined them every few days from all corners of the galaxy, and they brought news.

“Fifteen or so came directly from Coruscant,” said Byna, the woman occupying the bunk across from Leia. “They’re overrun. The core is almost completely vanquished.”

She was traveling with her elderly father and a baby less than a year old.

The only system of order for asylum claims was a series of plasticine chips on a string. Every breathing body was allotted two blue chips. Because of the vulnerable people in her care, Byna also had six yellow chips. Leia had three. Yellow was good, but green was better. Green was sponsorship. A relative on Mandalore. Someone to vouch for you.

Families with green chips were usually taken planetside in a matter of days. Before Leia’s arrival, Byna had been aboard the Star Gazer for almost forty days. It took another twenty-seven days before the Admiral received authorization to send ten people to the surface. Byna’s family was one of the chosen, and the only unit without a green chip.

“At least there’s hope,” Leia told her when they said goodbye.

“You don’t have to pretend to be happy for me,” Byna told her with bleak humor. “If you were the one leaving I wouldn’t be happy for you.”

“I am happy for you,” Leia insisted. “But I also hate you. Just a little.”

They hugged tightly, Byna’s infant daughter squirming between them. “You’ll make it,” she told Leia. “I know you will.”

Leia watched her walk down the row of bunks one last time, holding her father’s arm to steady him.

Ben had developed a nasty cough and his eyes were glazed as he stared at the now-empty bunk across from them. “I want to go home,” he mumbled.

“I know.” Leia told him. “I’m working on it.” She sat down beside her son and spread their one thin blanket over them. Though she could take Byna's empty bunk, she'd grown accustomed to sleeping upright, Ben's head on her lap.

She leaned her head against the support beam beside the bunk and closed her eyes. The main lights on the row powered down for the night, leaving only the strip lights illuminating the walkway. Twenty-eight days.

Some time later she was awakened by the sound of boots, and then a heavy thunk as someone claimed Byna’s bunk. Leia opened her eyes, blinking into the gloom. The floor lights glinted off the dome of a helmet as its owner leaned forward to remove it.

A Mandalorian? Someone trying to get home?

The man exhaled, stretching his legs out into the walkway, and Leia saw short, seamed boots with retractable blades at the toes. They were unusual footwear, but she’d seen a pair just like them once, stalking silently across the sandy floor of Jabba’s throne room.

_Ho, ho, ho_.

It couldn’t be. For one thing, Boba Fett was _dead_.

Ben coughed, and the sound seemed to echo in the quiet. The bunk creaked as the man leaned forward again. “ _Fek_ me. What are _you_ doing here?”

Her mind raced, trying to locate a weapon or an advantage, something, _anything_. He knew her. Even if he wasn’t Fett, he knew who she was. “I think you have me confused with someone else,” she forced herself to reply.

“Where’s your bounty hunter disguise? Couldn’t pull it off with a kid?” His tone was mocking and her heart sank with every word. He knew who she was. And if he wasn’t Boba Fett, then he had a suspicious amount of knowledge about the last time she’d seen him.

_This bounty hunter is my kind of scum. Fearless and inventive._

On the other hand, if he was here to kill her and take Ben, why remove his helmet and start talking to her? “What are _you_ doing here?” She hissed.

“I asked you first.”

“What does it look like? I’m trying to get asylum.”

“So am I.”

“You might be in for a long wait.” Units with single people were the lowest priority. Leia had never seen one of them taken down.

He shrugged. Ben went into another long coughing fit, and Leia rubbed his back until it ended.

She wasn’t sure what to make of his story. It seemed to her that a bounty hunter might be willing to try one of the more illegal points of entry. She had considered a number of them herself, including bribing someone to smuggle her and Ben into the system. But it was too risky. She couldn’t afford to get caught without papers on Mandalore.

Ben started coughing again and her own throat ached in sympathy. Across the walkway, her new neighbor stirred. “Water might help.”

“Water is rationed,” Leia returned shortly. “We won’t get any until oh-six when they turn the lights back on.” Energy was also rationed. They only had ten hours at full lights, during which they got two meals and two servings of water. Sometimes she could tuck some of their rations away to eat after the lights went out, just to make the nights seem shorter, but water was impossible to save unless you had a bottle or a canteen, which Leia didn’t.

It was such a little thing, being able to give her child water to soothe his throat. She was learning quickly to give up on the little things, like having a full stomach or clean hair. All she could do was focus on the big things. They were alive. They were hidden. The red eyes and twisted sneer of Supreme Leader Snoke remained, for now, a spectre of her nightmares.

_The boy_. _He will be mine_.

Over her dead body.


	2. The Deal

Organa’s son was coughing again. Although far from the only sound in _The Star Gazers'_ dark hold, it was close, unpredictable, and therefore the most annoying. Boba watched the former princess of Alderaan rub the boy’s back. The soothing gesture was almost reflexive. Her eyes were shut and her head rested against the support beam beside her bunk.

He could only assume that medical attention was also rationed in a place like this. The more common illnesses that stemmed from living in this dark and crowded environment were not a priority.

Boba exhaled and shifted on his bunk. It was barely long enough to stretch out on, and he had plenty of experience sleeping upright. Following Organa's example, he leaned his head against the cold durasteel beam and shut his eyes.

The boy coughed again, a rough, hacking cough that continued into a full fit. His mother murmured something to him, too low for Boba to hear. He checked the time. Still another three hours until the lights came back. He pulled a small, flexible canteen from one of his pockets and thrust it across the walkway. “Here.”

Organa looked up at it and then quickly away. “No thank you.”

“It’s just water and electrolytes.”

“I said no.” She rubbed her son’s back harder as he coughed again.

He couldn’t blame her for not trusting him. She had to be worth a pile of credits to the First Order, with or without her child. If he had access to the medic’s stash...His hypothetical plan stalled quickly. It wasn’t likely that he could smuggle her off the ship without the crew’s cooperation and he probably couldn’t hijack the entire ship and make it to the core.

He was sitting on a much bigger payday anyway. Assuming he could get to Mandalore.

Organa held a certain amount of expertise here, about the ship and its routines, including how often they took people down. It would be easier if she would talk to him. He settled back into his bunk and took a sip from his canteen before he tucked it away. His helmet sat beside him on the bunk and his fingers traced the old, familiar dent in the dome as he closed his eyes again. There was time to work on her.

He woke up when the lights came back on. There was a general stirring of passengers along the row, people grumbling and rubbing their eyes. Organa yawned, and her son blinked as he stared across the walkway, his eyes bright with fever. “Whoa. Cool helmet.” The boy reached out, small fingers splayed, and Boba felt his helmet lift under up under his hand.

_Fierfek_.

“Ben, _no_.” Organa seized his hand, and the helmet dropped back to the bunk. Boba pushed down on it, just be certain it was free. Maybe Organa wasn’t the top-credit bounty here after all.

She was watching him, her jaw tight, waiting. With the lights back on they could fully see one another for the first time. As her eyes skimmed his face her brows drew together. She blinked twice.

It was a face he knew well. She recognized him, but only a vague sense. That was reasonable. She would have been very young when the Clone Wars ended.

He took another swig from his canteen and did a few neck stretches. When the water cart came through, the water rationed into disposable cups, he refilled his canteen instead of drinking.

When the first meal appeared, a thick, bland porridge of some kind, Organa's son seemed uninterested. “Can’t he just have a ration bar for both meals?” She asked the aide who came to collect the bowls.

“Sorry, no substitutions.”

“It’s not a substitution-” she tried to argue, but the aide cut her off.

“Look, _your highness_ , we can’t take special orders. _Sorry_.” He moved on.

Boba could see the anger in her eyes. The humiliation. She knew he was watching but she wouldn’t look at him.

“Figure it out yet?” He asked.

Her eyes dropped to her son as she stroked his hair. “Figure what out?”

“Where you’ve seen me before.”

That did it. She looked over at him, curious. “No.”

“You haven’t seen me before. But you’ve probably seen one or more people who look exactly like me.”

He could always spot the moment when they figured it out. Organa was no different. “You’re too young.”

That part was different. No one had ever argued with him about it before. “Or I’m exactly the right age.”

“I’ve only met one,” she admitted, “and he was older.”

“He was made to be.”

“The trainers,” she said, as if she’d just realized something. “They were Mandalorians. Do you have a sponsor?”

In answer he took the string of chips out from his pocket. Two blue. One green.

“Must be nice.” Her son coughed, and she reached over automatically to rub his back.

“How long has he been sick?”

“About five days.”

Boba nodded at his canteen. “Offer still stands.”

She hesitated. “It might be contagious.”

“I’ve got a pretty good immune system.” He leaned out into the walkway and handed her the canteen.

“Ben,” she coaxed. “Sit up and take a sip of this for me.” When he’d lifted his head enough to take a few swallows, she passed the canteen back to him. “Thank you.” She was looking at him now, her eyes still wary. “You’re a lot nicer than I remember.”

His mouth tightened in a spare smile. “I’m nice when it benefits me. You’ve been here longer. Makes you useful.”

Her eyebrows arched at his bluntness. “So what do you want to know?”

“How often do they take people down to Mandalore?”

“It varies. Two days, three days, six days...I was told once they went ten days without taking anyone and the Admiral was afraid a riot would break out.”

“Using what weapons? The security check was pretty damn thorough.”

“Oh, I know.” She grimaced. “Have you had any contact with your sponsor since you came aboard?”

“No.”

“There were rumors that the First Order tried to establish a base here. A year or so ago. But the _Mand’alor_ wouldn’t have anything to do with them.”

“I heard the same.”

“There’s no chance she would change her mind, is there?” Her voice was low. Meant for his ears alone. “The First Order can’t offer her peace. Not while the Scourge is loose in the galaxy.”

Boba stretched out his legs and took his time responding. “I’ve never met the _Mand’alor_. But everything I know about Bo-Katan Kryze suggests that she won’t bend easily.”

She seemed satisfied with that. Boba was pleased with his progress. She was talking to him, exchanging information. If nothing else it would keep him from becoming too bored while he waited for entry.

Two day cycles later his throat started to feel scratchy, and his head ached. But that was as far as the virus got. There was no fever that came and went like Organa’s son.

The admiral authorized two dozen entry passes, but none of them went to single units. By Boba’s count, every unit chosen for entry had at least seven chips. The green chips might be more useful for residency claims, but Boba was beginning to suspect that yellow chips had a greater impact on entry.

Just before the lights went out, a fresh wave of refugees arrived. The row commander announced that until the next round of entry passes were granted, bunks would have to be shared. “Sitting room only,” she said, a fake smile plastered on her face. “Just for a few days, folks!”

Organa moved over to make room for him on her bunk as a Bothan unit of five was escorted to their section. They had a youngling that bleated constantly. The mother apologized over and over again in Bothese.

Organa’s son covered his ears.

“Three dependants,” Leia observed quietly. “Nineteen chips. They won’t be here long.”

News trickled down from other new arrivals. The Scourge remained in the core for now, stockpiling weapons and ships. They were still soldiers, after all. The First Order trained them well.

The boy’s fever had broken again, judging by the ripe, sweaty smell of him. Boba considered putting his helmet on, but the air filtration required power and he didn’t want to drain his cells. He was beginning to come to the uncomfortable conclusion that gaining entry to Mandalore was going to take longer than he anticipated.

The row lights went out. Organa moved towards Fett so the boy could lay his head in her lap. “Too close?”

“No.” It was her bunk, after all. He placed his helmet down on the floor between his feet. He dozed, and when he woke up Organa’s head had fallen to his shoulder. He didn’t disturb her. The Bothan youngling began to cry again, and its mother wrapped it up tight and hummed.

Maybe she wasn’t its mother. Bothans were mammary creatures, but she hadn’t tried to nurse once. An adoptive mother perhaps. There were no records here to prevent people from forming new family units and increasing their chip count.

Organa stirred beside him and lifted her head from his shoulder. “Um. Sorry.”

Boba turned his head so he could speak quietly and still be heard. “What if we said we were married? Put our chips in together.”

She didn’t recoil. Didn’t reject it outright. She’d been here much longer than he had. “Then what?” She asked, her voice low. “If it works. Do we claim asylum together?”

“It would strengthen both our claims. And if we say we’re married, who can say otherwise?” The moment he said it, it occurred to him that there was one person who could say otherwise. “Unless there’s a chance your real husband might turn up.”

She didn’t respond right away, which told him more than the words she was eventually able to force from her lips. “Han’s ship went down during the siege of Chandrila.”

There was no point in offering false words of sympathy or regret. She wouldn’t buy it. “We’d have to live together. Just until we have permanent residency.”

“We’re practically living together now.” She touched her sleeping son’s cheek. “I would prefer that Ben know as little about this as possible.”

“Whatever you say. I don’t know anything about kids.”

“You won’t have to do anything other than be discreet.” She paused and drew in a breath. “And I hope it doesn’t need to be said that if you ever, _ever_ lay a hand on him-”

“No.”

“Okay then. Good.” Her shoulder was against his and he could feel her relax. “We won’t be a burden, I can find work-”

“Don’t worry about that. I can support you and the boy.” He nudged her shoulder. “Can you cook?”

She nudged him back, harder. “You still have a sense of humor. I don’t think you’ve been here long enough.”  



	3. Entry

At first Leia was afraid to hope. But another full day passed and Ben’s fever didn’t return. He was still coughing a little, but he was up and moving around. Maybe the virus had finally passed him by. Or maybe it was the unlimited access to Fett’s canteen.

Registering as a family unit had proved astonishingly easy. It seemed that no one was really concerned about fraudulent records with so many living beings packed into an increasingly tight space. The row commanders assured them at every meal and every water break that the admiral was doing everything in his power to send more refugees planetside.

It was still another three days before their unit number was called.

And then suddenly she was leaving., After thirty-four days. Leia kept her eyes on her path as she picked her way down the narrow walkway for the last time, Ben’s hand clutched tightly in hers. She couldn’t look at the people she was leaving behind.

Only one other family was taken from their row. A Twi’lek female, her human wife and their two half-grown hybrid daughters. As they boarded the shuttle the human wife began to weep. Leia didn’t blame her.

As the shuttle began to descend, Ben pressed his face to the window.  “Look, Mom! Trees."

“I see them.”

Fett quickly engaged the pilot in conversation, reminding Leia that she would have to learn the Mandalorian tongue. Basic was still spoken by many people, but had fallen out of favor after the destruction of the New Mandalorian government during the Clone Wars.

“He says we’re going to Sundari for processing,” the bounty hunter informed her. “Health check. Interview. How long have we been married again?”

What would be plausible? “It was just past one year when we left Kuat.”

“Right. How could I forget?”

The Twi’lek sitting across from her smiled and squeezed her wife’s shoulder. “Every marriage has one who forgets.” Her wife wiped her teary eyes and shrugged.

Leia realized that this was something she was going to be spending a lot of time doing, especially at entry. Pretending to be married. Trying not to think about Han. If there was an afterlife, Leia hoped he wasn’t watching.

As soon as they reached the surface, they were hustled into an old hangar bay sliced into sections by temporary dividers. A young Mandalorian soldier drew a curtain around the three of them, and said something short and curt in _Mando’a_ . “He wants us to undress,” Fett translated. “Everything...has to be destroyed. _Ner beskar’gam_?” He inquired, touching his chestplate.

The soldier made an up-and-down motion. “ _Evaar’la_. New everything.” He pointed straight-armed at four plasticine walls that formed a crude shower stall. “Shower. I’ll bring clothing.” Then just like that, he was gone.

It made sense from a germ containment point of view, but Leia didn’t like the idea of giving up the last of her earthly possessions, and she liked even less being forced to strip down in front of her fake husband. “Do we really have to…”

Fett shrugged and turned his back. “I’ll go first.”

She followed his example with a sigh, turning her back to give him privacy and help Ben undress. “I bet it’s a water shower,” her son said, squirming with excitement.

Leia would have preferred a sonic shower, but Ben was probably right. There were tubes running along the floor near the shower stall that had wet spots beneath them, and the air smelled like mildew. “You have to let me help you wash your hair. Remember the last time you got soap in your eyes?” As she pulled her son’s shirt over his head, his gaze drifted over her shoulder.

“What’s wrong with his skin?”

Before she could stop herself, Leia looked. She caught only a glimpse of Fett’s naked back, and the wide swatch of puckered scar tissue that drew her son’s attention before she forced herself to turn her head back. “Ben,” she said, her voice coloring with anger directed more at herself than him.  “Look at me. It’s not polite to stare or ask questions about someone’s body. You know that.”

“But-”

“I got burned.” If the bounty hunter was offended or embarrassed, she couldn’t tell it from his tone.

Ben’s eyes widened. “When?”

“Long time ago. Before you were born.”

“It’s all over you,” her son observed. “Were you in a fire?” Leia peeled the musty socks off his feet and wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

There was a muffled snort from the bounty hunter, and out of the corner of her eye she saw his worn flightsuit kicked aside. “Sort of. You know what a sarlacc is?”

“Yeah. My dad got into a fight with one once.”

“Did he.”

“We should really hurry,” she said, louder than she intended. “The sooner we’re done…” Her voice trailed off because she didn’t actually know what was coming next.

“I’d like to hear that story sometime,” Fett continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Ow, Mom.”

She realized she was holding Ben’s arms too tightly and let go immediately. “That’s enough questions,” she said. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ben must have sensed her tension, because he fell silent and hardly gave Fett so much as a wary glance for the rest of their shower time.

Leia wished now she’d given a little more thought to what happened on Tatooine. The truth was, she didn’t remember seeing him fall into the pit of Carkoon, she was too busy strangling Jabba with the chain he used to keep her on a leash. It was only through Han and Lando’s very embellished tales of fight that she learned of the bounty hunter’s supposed demise.

_In its belly you will find a new definition of pain and suffering as you are slowly digested over a thousand years._

That wasn’t actually....possible, was it?

When the soldier returned he brought a stack of second-hand clothing and drawstring bag for anything that wasn’t on their backs. As soon he turned to gather up their old clothing, Leia saw Fett slide his helmet into the bag unnoticed.

She was carrying contraband of her own, easily concealed within her shirt. Han’s lucky dice. He’d given them to Ben before he left to make the last stand at Hanna City.

Next came immunizations and a brief physical exam. Ben, of course, had all of his shots before his name was Benezel Joldo, son of Allennia Joldo. Poor Benezel hadn’t had any, a detail Leia wished in hindsight she’d had the forger include. She had to wrap both of her arms around him to keep him still while they injected him twice in each arm and he howled in pain and outrage.

She was so exhausted by the time it was her turn that she barely heard the physician’s questions. No recent surgeries. No prolonged illnesses. No history of blood clotting. No allergies. No miscarriages. No history of infertility. “Do you need birth control?”

“No,” she said without thinking.

The physician, a trim Pantorian female, nodded and winked. “Good. Can’t hurt, right?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, I just meant that if you’re planning to apply for residency...” She blinked and gestured at her datapad. “You want more children anyway, right?”

“Uh.” Leia was acutely aware of Fett’s presence on the next cot, not to mention her son, who was absorbed in a holobook one of the physician’s aides had given him. “Well...we’ve talked about it…”

“I want six,” Fett offered casually. “Maybe seven. She thinks that’s too many.”

“It is too many!” In spite of her flustered state, Leia was grateful for the bounty hunter’s quick thinking.

The physician seemed amused by the exchange. She wagged her finger playfully at Fett. “No more than once a day. And loose underwear. For your sperm.”

“Oh,” he replied, straight-faced. “That’s what I’ve been doing wrong then.”

“What’s sperm?” Ben asked without looking up from his book.

“I’ll explain it to you later,” Leia told him.

The physician pushed her green-tinted glasses up her nose and peered at her. “Children are very important in Mandalorian culture, and people might be a bit more open about these things here...I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” she replied stiffly. “I’m just...very tired right now.”

“You’re almost done. Just the interview left.”

The interview was actually the part she was dreading the most. She wished now she had spent a little more time working with Fett on the details of their fake marriage.

They were hustled into one of the tents at the end of the hanger bay. It contained only a long table and a few chairs huddled around the end. An older man with dark skin and light armor sat at one end of the table, datapad in hand.

“Come in. Come in. Allennia Joldo, Benezel Joldo and Boba...Fett?” He leaned forward as they took their seats. “Fett. _Haar’chak_.” He let loose with a rapid stream of stern _Mando’a_ and when he stopped talking there was a sudden silence where the two men seemed to be sizing each other up. Not in a friendly way.

“My wife doesn’t speak _Mando’a_.” Fett’s tone was the approximate temperature of Hoth.

“My apologies,” the Mandalorian official said with an equal lack of warmth. “I’ll stick to Basic.”

“I speak a number of languages.” Leia gave him her most charming, guileless smile. “Just not that one. I look forward to learning it.”

He didn’t smile back. “It says here you’re a translator.”

“Yes, for a museum. Old Alderaani was my primary focus, but I’m familiar with a number of old tongues and dead languages.”

“It’s a tragedy when languages die. When people leave their culture behind.” His gaze returned to Fett before he sat up and adjusted his datapad. “Right. You have thirty days to find work. Housing is provided for the same period, and you’ll get a stipend for food and clothing. You’re claiming asylum, so you have one rotational year to obtain permanent residency. If you fail to obtain it in a year’s time you’ll be deported to your system of origin.”

“Excuse me,” Leia leaned forward. “You said we have a year. But if we apply for residency immediately, what is the average-”

“Currently? Eight to ten cycles. So if I were you, I wouldn’t put it off.”

“Eight to ten cycles?” Leia repeated. “We were told on the transport that it would be three at the most.”

He spread his hands, palm up. “We’re overwhelmed with refugees. And a good number of them lie on their entry paperwork, which means we’re even more jammed up trying to verify. Neither of you lied on your asylum claim, right?” He said as if he was half-joking, but only half.

“No,” Fett replied at the same time that Leia said “Absolutely not.”

“What about you, young man?” He looked down the table at Ben, whose chin was barely higher than the table edge.

“It’s wrong to lie,” Ben said virtuously.

“ _Jate_.” The man nodded. “You know what that means? It means ‘good.’”

“ _Jate_ ,” Ben repeated, trying it out.

“That’s right. You be good for your ma and da, all right.” He pulled a hard candy wrapped in shiny paper out of his gauntlet and tossed it to Ben.

Her son caught it one-handed. “My dad’s dead.”

There was an awkward pause as the old man’s eyes dropped to the datapad in front of him. “Well that brings us to the final thing. You adopted him?” The question was directed at Fett.

“Not yet.”

“It wasn’t the right time,” Leia offered.

“Understood, but now is gonna have to be right time. We’ve had too many custody disputes with records we can’t verify. If something happens to one of you-” He spread his hands again, a gesture of frustration and helplessness. “It won’t take long. We’ll do the marriage vows first, then the adoption.” He dragged himself to his feet and gestured at them. “Stand up. Face one another.”

“Wait,” said Ben around the candy in his mouth. “What’s going on?”

“Just some words to say, _Ad’ika_. We’ll do it in Basic for you.”

“Could we try it in _Mando’a_?” Leia said quickly. “I think it’s _so_ important to preserve the original wording.”

The official shrugged, but he seemed pleased. “Sure. If you want.”

She looked up at Fett, who tilted his head in a subtle nod of acknowledgement. “Just repeat after me,” he said. “ _Mhi solus tome_.”

“ _M-mhi solus tome_.”

“Good. _Mhi solus dar'tome_.”

“ _Mhi solus dar'tome_.”

_“Mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde_.”

“ _Mhi_...ah...slow down and say it again.”

He did, and she managed to stumble through it. The gods only knew what she’d just said, but at least it was done.

“ _Oya_. You know the adoption words?” The official asked Fett.

“Yes.”

“Say his name first.”

“Ben. _Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad_.”

Her son frowned. “ _Nee-kar_...what does that mean?”

“It means I know who you are.” Fett picked up the drawstring bag. “So, we’re done?”

“We’re _done_?” Ben couldn’t leave his seat fast enough. “ _Finally_.”

The official gave him a bemused half-smile and scribbled something on a piece of flimsy. “Everyone else got to say words, so here’s some for you. You can say them when you think about your dad.”

“Okay.” Ben took the paper, not sure what to do with it. “Thanks.”

 

* * *

  

The housing provided by the processing center was sparse, simple and clean. A small apartment with two bedrooms, one refresher and a kitchen. The cupboards were stocked with a few basic dry goods and on the counter was a stack of three plates, with three cups and three sets of utensils. One of the bedrooms had a full size bed wide enough for two adults and the other held a simple child’s cot.

Boba was more interested in the security. There was a basic recorder at the front door, and while the feed could be accessed it wasn’t stored in-house. That made sneaking out a little more difficult, because he couldn’t rule out the possibility that someone was watching them. There was a simple comm system with a city directory, and that could easily be tapped as well.

It could be spliced with components from his helmet, but that might look a little suspicious to the other residents of the house.

He took a moment to consider the two people who were now legally his wife and son. It was nothing short of a _fekkin_ ’ miracle he remembered the traditional words for marriage and adoption. The only Mandalorian marriage he’d witnessed was on Kamino, long ago. Two of the trainers got married and it caused nothing but trouble. That was also how he knew that a Mandalorian divorce was just as simple.

Reversing an adoption would be less simple, but that was something to worry about later. He watched the boy wander from room to room, eating fruit from a can. One the amenities the apartment lacked was a table.

“Is this our new home?” He didn’t sound excited about it.

“It’s our home for now,” Organa responded. “Not forever.” She opened a package of crackers and another of salted, pureed nerf meat. “Dinner,” she told Boba.

“I thought you didn’t cook.” He picked up the meat package held it up to his nose. It didn’t smell like anything. At all.

“I promise you, you ate much worse on the transport.”

He watched her as she spread the meat paste onto the cracker and took a bite. She was probably right.

Between the two of them they ate the entire package of crackers standing at the counter and by then Ben’s wandering had taken on an aimless quality. Organa took him into the room with the child’s cot and tucked him in. Through the open door Boba saw her take something small and golden from her shirt and place it in her son’s hand.

Sabacc dice. The kind of small ornament a gambler might carry around. Or a smuggler.

The scrap of flimsy the official had given Ben at the end of their interview lay on the counter. Boba didn’t need to read it to know what it said. He had memorized those words a long time ago, when he wasn’t much older than Ben.

_I’m alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal_.

Organa left her son’s room and went into the ‘fresher. He cleaned up the remains of their dinner while he waited for his turn. The rush of finally making it to Mandalore was beginning to fade, and exhaustion was quick to follow. There was a lot to be done. He needed to sleep to do it.

When he emerged from the ‘fresher Organa was spreading the blankets out on the bed. She straightened as he approached. “It’ll be nice to sleep in a bed again.”

“Too bad you have to share it.”

He unbuckled his his belt and sat on the edge of the bed to remove his boots. The shirt they’d given him at the processing center was too small, and it pulled tight across his shoulders when he bent down. He wondered what the undressing etiquette was for sharing a bed with someone you were only technically married to. The center hadn’t provided them anything to sleep in.

Deciding it was better to err on the side of modesty, he laid down in his shirt and pants and pulled the blanket up to his chest. “Good night,” he said, a little pointedly. She was still standing beside the bed, fully dressed.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” she said abruptly. “In the shower room. Children are curious, and I’m sure Ben didn’t mean to-”

“Do you sleep with the light on?”

“No.” She crossed over to the control panel on the wall and the lights began to dim out. “You handled it really well, but I feel like maybe I didn’t.” She took off her jacket and toed off her shoes. “You don’t have to tell me. But I would like to know what happened to you that day.”

She was now undressed to the same level that he was but made no move to join him. They had shared a much smaller sleeping space aboard _The Star Gazer_ , but they weren’t alone. Was she worried about something?

“My jetpack busted,” he said shortly. “It was leaking fuel after I hit the side of the barge. The sarlacc didn’t like the way it tasted, so it started working on the others first. Gave me enough time to reach my flamethrower. It _really_ didn’t like the taste of that.”

The room was dark enough now that he couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the strain in her voice. “You set. Yourself. On fire.”

“Yup.”

“That must have hurt.”

“Not as much as being digested alive.” He was very careful to say it lightly. He was always careful to say it lightly. No point in sharing his pain and terror. No reason for anyone else to know.

“I’m sorry.”

She sounded like she meant it. Easy to see why she was such a successful politician. “It was never personal. Everything with Solo, with you, with Skywalker. It was a job.” He paused. “We don’t have to talk about the past. And you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“I’m not,” she said immediately.

“We made a deal. We got _karking_ married. If you don’t feel safe sleeping beside me, we’ve got a problem.”

“It’s not that.” She lifted the blanket and laid down beside him. They weren’t even close to touching. “Did we really get married?”

“Yes. But don’t worry, it can be undone.”

“What did I say? In the vows?”

It took him a minute to recall the exact translation. “We are one together, we are one apart. We will share all. We will raise warriors.”

“That’s interesting,” she said after a moment. “Nothing about love.”

Her response had taken so long, Boba was nearly asleep. But he stirred just enough to answer, pulling words out of some faint memory of one of the trainers talking to his dad on Kamino. Vehemently defending the people who chose to marry. “It’s about choosing to share a life. A family. Isn’t that love?”

“Yes. I suppose it is.” Her voice wavered in the dark, and Boba thought about the golden dice she’d pressed into her son’s hand. It was his last thought before he fell asleep.


	4. The Sponsor

“Someone’s at the door.”

Leia bolted upright in bed, dragged out of a sleep so deep that it took her several seconds to focus on her son standing in the bedroom doorway. She reached blindly for the man beside her. “Han-”

But of course it wasn’t Han.

Fett was on his feet in a second. He hit the security button on the control panel and a holograph of a short blond woman in Mandalorian armor appeared. She pushed the doorbell, which didn’t seem to be working,and folded her arms over her chest with an aggravated scowl.

“It’s my aunt,” Fett  said, his voice rough from sleep. He scrubbed a hand over his face and with a grimace, turned his head from one side to the other. Gravity reorientation was always a bitch after a long stretch in space. Leia wasn’t looking forward to it.

Ben shuffled towards the bed, letting the bounty hunter pass through the door. “Is this where you sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Grownups share beds,” her son observed. “But kids don’t.”

“Well…” She wondered if Fett would mind a cot. “You and I could share this bed.”

“No thanks. I like sleeping by myself.” He coughed, but it was a dry, rasping cough. Nothing like the cough he’d had on _The Star Gazer_. “Can I have fruit for breakfast?”

“Sure.” Her feet touched the floor and her head went swimming. Slowly. _Slowly_.

“ _Now_ you come back,” she heard a woman say as she moved toward the kitchen. “Now that you need us. And with an _auretti_ wife and child to boot.” Fett’s aunt was straight-backed and muscular, but apart from that they didn’t look much alike. Her complexion was fair, her slicked-back hair a mixture of blond and gray. She looked them over with cool eyes. “He’s going to be tall. Didn’t get that from our side.”

“That’s Ben,” Fett told her curtly. “And that’s Leia. Allennia.” He caught himself. “I call her Leia.”

Good to know she wasn’t the only one struggling with grogginess and disorientation this morning.

“How cute,” his aunt responded dryly. “ _Su’cry_. I’m Arla Fett. Jango’s sister.”

Leia tried to look as if she knew who that was. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard…” she glanced at the bounty hunter and made an educated guess “...almost nothing about you.”

Arla cracked a smile, which was gone almost as soon as it appeared. “We’re not talkers. And the last time I saw _Bob’ika_ was...what, twenty, twenty-five years ago?” She squinted up at him. “I tried to help him. He practically spit in my face.”

“But I didn’t.”

“Good thing.”

“Can I have fruit now?” Ben asked.

“I have something even better for you,” Arla announced. She picked up a large bag sitting at her feet and set it on the counter. “You ever had _uj’alayi_?”

“Ben is a little bit of a picky eater,” Leia interjected. “And he really likes fruit-”

“This has fruit in it. Nuts. Spices. Syrup.” Arla set a thick paper-wrapped block on the table and extracted what looked like cake. “Some other stuff. All the alcohol gets cooked out of it, don’t worry.” She broke a thick chunk off with her hands and put it on a plate. “Might as well start eating like a Mandalorian now.”

“You could try it,” Leia suggested to Ben, trying to keep the peace.

Ben broke off a piece that barely more than a crumb and put it in his mouth. “It’s okay.”

“You have to eat more cake than air if you want to taste it,” Arla told him before she dove back into her bag. “I also stopped by the processing center and picked up your first stipend credits. For food and clothes, which you clearly need. That shirt’s about to give way,” she said to Fett. “And for some reason it looks like you slept in it.”

“We were very tired,” Leia said, aware that her own clothing must be just as unkempt. “I barely remember getting into bed.”

Arla’s expression softened just slightly. “I know it wasn’t easy getting here. The flood of refugees...no one was prepared for it. The _Mand’alor_ is doing everything she can just to keep order.”

“I understand, but…” Leia spread her hand toward their sparse surroundings. “You could put three family units in each one of these apartments, it would still be better than the conditions aboard the transports.”

“It’s not just space,” Arla retorted. “It’s resources. It’s time. We can’t just take in a bunch of _auretti_ and let them wander the streets.”

“Other systems have found ways to accelerate the process. On Mimban during the war they used corporate sponsorship for refugees, other systems networked with religious orders, on Dantooine-” Leia realized she was talking too much, and offering information a museum translator surely wouldn’t have access to. “Haven’t Mandalorians been scattered before?”

“Sure. There’s even a term for it. _Ba'slan shev'la_. Disappear for a while. Regroup. But we aren’t scattered now. And we’ve got to protect what we have.”

Leia knew she should stop, she should nod and agree. But she couldn’t. Not after what she’d seen and experienced firsthand. “You have _everything_ , compared to the people on those ships. What happens to them if the Scourge invades?”

Arla snorted. “Our system perimeter is secured by hundreds of Mandalorian ships and thousands of fighters. They’ll never get that far.”

“Other systems thought the same.”

There was a long, strained pause, and then Arla pointed a gloved finger at her. “I like you. You’re a pessimist.”

“I guess I am.” Leia looked away, just in time to see Fett sneaking a chunk of _uj’alayi_ off of Ben’s plate. “Thank you,” she said to Arla. “For the cake and for bringing this.” She touched the rectangular Mandalorian credits on the counter. “Where can we go shopping?”

“Anywhere. You can move freely within the city dome. Center square is the easy one for clothing and personal items. Riven Market for food.”

“When can we leave Sundari?”

Leia turned toward Fett, surprised by the question. Arla seemed taken aback as well.

“Why?” She gestured at their surroundings. “You’ve got this place for thirty days. Take some time.”

“I need a job, remember? I was thinking Concordia, if we can get permits to travel offworld. The mountain air would be good for Ben.”

“I don’t want to go to the mountains,” Ben grumbled. “I want to go home.”

Arla folded her arms over her chest. “Where’s home?”

“Kuat,” Leia answered quickly. Her son’s shoulders heaved a silent sigh. He was tiring of this game.

“It might not be the same as when you left,” Arla told him. “The First Order took over a few days ago and started setting up defenses. From their own troops. Kind of funny when you-”

“The First Order took Kuat?” Leia gripped the edge of the counter. Her head was swimming again, but this time she couldn’t blame it entirely on gravity orientation.

“Yup, they’re all over the comm channels trying to recruit new allies. Now they’ve got something to offer.”

“Something they stole.” It was terrible news of course, but the worst of it was the voice of the Mandalorian official in her head.

_You’ll be deported to your system of origin._

Red eyes flashed through her mind.

“I like the idea of finding a place on Concordia,” she said finally. “I think it would be good for all of us.”

“I’ll ask around, see what I can do,” Arla promised. “In meantime, buy what you need, eat well and rest up.” She looked down at Ben’s plate, which was now empty apart from a few crumbs. “ _Oya_. I told you it was good.”

Ben looked over at Fett, who was much better at keeping a straight face, even when his mouth was full. The moment the door shut behind Arla, her son let out an exasperated sigh. “ _Now_ can I have my fruit?”

Leia crossed over to the cupboard. “It won’t hurt you to try new things, you know.” She served him his fruit and then put a chunk of cake on a plate for herself. “What was this called again?”  
“ _Uj’alayi_.” Fett pronounced it slowly. “You can also just call it _uj_ cake.”

It was sweet and rich. A little sticky. Not a bad breakfast, overall. “So Jango would be…”

“My dad. Jango Fett.” Fett helped himself to another chunk of cake. “He grew up Mandalorian. Then he left to become a bounty hunter and his sister joined the Death Watch. Not sure what happened there.”

“What’s the ‘Death Watch’?” Ben asked, clearly fascinated by the name.

“A covert faction that rebelled against the New Mandalorian government. Sort of like the First Order, but less...starched.”

“I was taught they were a terrorist group.” Leia frowned, searching her memory. “Didn’t they ally with Black Sun and assassinate the Duchess of Mandalore?”

“Yup.”

“And your dad was...with the New Mandalorians?”

Fett snorted as if she’d made a joke. “No. He hated them too.”

She took a moment to absorb that while she swallowed the last of her cake. “That’s really good. _Uj-ah-ly-yee_.”

“It’s better with caf.” He picked up one of the credits off the counter. “What do you need?”

Leia would have preferred to do her own shopping. But she was in a strange city under a false name and she might not be able to trust Ben to cooperate. It would be safer to stay in. “Is there a directory on the comm system? Maybe I could place a few orders and you could pick them up.”

The bounty hunter gave a nod of approval. “I’ll shower while you do that.”

Not knowing how much they had been allotted, Leia kept her purchases minimal. Two sets of clothing for herself, simple tunics and loose pants with geometric designs. The kind of thing an earnest young museum translator would wear. She bought the least expensive sleepshirt she could find, a few personal hygiene items, and the same for Ben.

Food was a little harder to figure out, even with a translation module. When the bounty hunter emerged from the ‘fresher, she rotated the display towards him. “Is this...okay?”

He scanned it. “Yup.”

“What about the holodeck and the books for Ben. Can we afford that?”

His eyes cut back to the credits on the counter. “Two books. Not five.”

Leia adjusted the order accordingly. “I don’t want him to fall behind while he’s not in school.”

“I don’t want to go school.” Ben wiped fruit juice off his face with his sleeve.

“There are napkins right there,” she told him, exasperated. A few months on the run and he’d managed to unlearn all of his table manners.

“Worry about school when we’ve found a more permanent location.” Fett gathered up the credits and tucked them into his coat pocket.

“Yes, what was all that about Concordia and mountain air?” Leia put a hand on her hip and looked up at him.

“It’s supposed to be good for the lungs.”

“Yes, but why do _you_ want to go there?”

“There’s always work to be found around the old bases and mines. And it’s pretty remote. Less of a chance that someone would recognize you.”

That wasn’t the truth either. Or at least it wasn’t the whole truth. Leia watched him leave, wondering if there could be some other motive for wanting to leave Sundari as soon as possible. Maybe he just wanted to get away from his aunt. They didn’t seem to get along.

“Go to the ‘fresher and wash your face,” she told her son. As soon as he was out of the room she went back to the comm device and selected the directory for the Mandalorian Historical Archive. She entered “Jango Fett” into the search field. Boba Fett was a clone from Kamino, but he very confidently referred to Arla’s brother as his dad, so he must have been adopted or-

Oh.

It made sense, in a way. Mandalorian trainers for the clones of a Mandalorian mercenary. Or at least, a mercenary who claimed to be. The archive was very carefully written to say that Jango _claimed_ to be from Concord Dawn and used combat armor _similar_ to what was used by the Journeyman Protectors. She looked over the attached data file. It wasn’t small. Apparently she had some reading to do.


	5. Alive

Humans were a warm-blooded species. It was an obvious fact, one that Boba had known most of his life, but had never really contemplated. Sharing a bed with another warm-blooded being meant that the natural heat rising from their bodies was trapped beneath the blankets, producing a very pleasant and encompassing warmth that never seemed to be too hot.

For the past four days he’d woken up exactly like this, in a state of perfect warmth, drowsy and a little aroused. He thought he was past the age of regular morning stiffness. Maybe it was the heat beneath the blankets or the fact that Organa didn’t smell half bad now that she was showering regularly.

The arm slung across his chest was new.

He opened his eyes and looked down. Not that he really needed visual confirmation. Obviously at some point she had rolled over and was now hugging his left side, her cheek pressed against his shoulder and her palm resting flat over the center of his bare chest. Equally obvious was the fact that she was still asleep. Her eyes were shut, her breathing light and steady.

She stirred, and her thumb moved, lightly stroking his skin. When he chose his sleepwear, he went with a loose pair of pants only because he didn't like sleeping in a shirt. Given a choice and a certain amount of privacy, he preferred to slept naked.

Organa gave a soft “hmm” and snuggled closer, wayward strands of hair tickling his cheek. Her fingertips began to trace a lazy circle in the center of his chest and Boba stared grimly at the ceiling as his cock swiftly rose from a sleepy, “just testing” erection to a full blown, twitching hard-on.

Maybe if he was very, _very_ still, she would fall back into a deeper sleep and then he could move away. He closed his eyes and exhaled, trying to relax his body and convince his _karking_ stupid dick that no good would come of this.

Her thumb dragged lightly over one nipple and he snatched up her wrist, removing her hand from his chest. “Uh. _No_.”

Her eyes flew open. She jerked up with a gasp and immediately rolled her wrist out of his grip. Good reflexes. “Oh. Gods.” She drew back as far from him as she could without falling off edge of the bed. “I’m sorry. I’m so _sorry_.”

The best he could manage was a tight smile. “Good dream?”

“No.” Her eyes dropped to the obvious tent in the blankets below his waist and without a word she threw back the covers on her side of the bed and hurried from the room.

Boba returned his gaze to the ceiling, waiting for his engorged cock to get the message. She was married to Solo for what, six, seven years?

_Now_ the bed was too hot. He flipped back the covers and let the shock of cool air finish off his erection before he went out into the kitchen. It was still early, there was no sign of Ben. Organa was sitting on the floor, her back to the counter and her legs tucked up into her sleepshirt with her arms wrapped around them. She didn’t look at him.

He went to the cupboard and retrieved a cup. “You were asleep,” he said as he filled it with cold water.

“That’s not an excuse. If you had groped me in your sleep you would be missing a hand.” She jerked her head toward the cutting knives mounted to the counter behind her and Boba raised an eyebrow.

“Is that what you want? Punishment?” He said it mockingly, ignoring the part of his brain that was still simmering with unspent arousal and a number of unhelpful suggestions. If he had to dump this glass of cold water down the front of his sleeping pants he would.

“What I want to is to be able to go back in time and shake myself awake,” Organa replied grimly. She grasped the edge of the counter and pulled herself to her feet. “But fair is fair. You can grope me _once_ , you can touch the nipple but no pinching. I didn’t pinch, right? I was definitely going to, but I don’t think I did.”

Cold water, Boba reminded himself. Right down his pants. “No, you didn’t.”

“Okay, then.” She grasped the edge of her nightshirt and held it away from her body, her jaw set.  “I’d rather not have to take this off, if you could reach under-”

“Offer appreciated, but no.” His hand gripped the cup a little tighter. “It was an accident. I’m not angry. It’s not going to happen again.” He locked eyes with her and she swallowed hard and nodded.

“Part of this deal includes sharing a bed. A ‘fresher. A kitchen. It’s close.”

“I know,” she smoothed down the front of her nightshirt. “I can handle a few awkward moments. It’s just…” Her voice broke in a helpless laugh. “...So _kriffing_ strange sometimes to be living with someone after...being alone.”

“Yup.” He took a long swallow of water from his glass.

“You haven’t heard anything from Arla about moving, have you?”

“No.”

She closed her eyes briefly and exhaled. “I’m not used to hiding. I spend every day studying _Mando’a_ and trying to sneak a look at galactic news reports when Ben isn’t watching.” Her eyes opened and focused on the one narrow window in the kitchen. “It was bad enough on the transport, but now…when I see people pass by every day going about their lives, having purpose, having work to do…”

Boba felt the same way. He missed his armor and a blaster in his hand but most of all he needed a task. There wasn’t anything productive for him to do in Sundari. He spent the majority of the day walking around the city, pretending to look for work. “There’s a park in Center Square. People take their kids. If you want to get out, we could take Ben.”

“He needs to get out too,” Organa acknowledged. “I have to be able to trust him to be around other people without raising suspicions.”

“No force-lifting things, that’s a good start.”

She gave him a quick, troubled look, her lips pressed into a thin line.

It was the first time he’d mentioned what he’d witnessed on the transport. He had questions, but he wasn’t sure she would answer them. “He talks about ‘Uncle Luke.’”

Her large dark eyes fixed on him, measuring him in some undefinable way. “He’s my brother.”

“And his dad was Anakin Skywalker?” He had no proof of that, but if he was wrong she might feel inclined to tell him.

“What do you know about Anakin Skywalker?”

Not a denial. A dodge. _What do_ you _know about him, princess?_

“I met him when I was a child. Before the purge.”

“You did?” 

“Maybe ‘met’ is too strong a word. The first time I saw him, he was about to executed. Him and Kenobi and that senator from Naboo.”

Her fingers twitched at her side. “Senator Amidala. I...heard a lot about her in the senate. What was she like?”

“She was sentenced to die but she didn’t, so I’ll go with...resourceful.” He drained his cup and set it down. “I guess it never hurts to have an army of jedi come to your rescue either. So Ben. Is that where he gets it from? Skywalker blood?”

“It isn’t always inherited. According to the jedi teachings, all living beings have the force. It’s just stronger in some of us.”

“Like it was in Anakin.” Boba folded his arms over his chest. “I can see it. He takes after him.”

Her shoulders tightened, as if she was trying to suppress a shudder. “Let’s hope not.” She tilted her head to one side and looked up at him. “You know what happened to Anakin, don’t you?”

_Fierfek_. She’d turned it around on him.

“I could really use some caf,” she continued. “I’m sure we could talk all day about notorious branches in our family trees. Your ‘dad,’ for example.”

Boba didn’t miss the way she said it. “He was my dad. He raised me.”

“I looked him up.” She turned towards the caf maker and switched it on. “He had quite a reputation.”

Her turned back meant that he didn’t have to hide the snarl that tightened his jaw and bared his teeth. “Depends who you ask.”

“Oh? What-” Ben’s door opened, and her voice quickly shifted. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Can we go home today?”

“Not today,” she said, moving toward the cupboard to fetch his breakfast. “But how would you like to visit a park?”

Boba had passed the Center Square park many times. There were thick durasteel pipes and beams welded into structures for kids to climb on, and Ben took off the second he saw them, leaving Boba and his mother to claim a bench like all of the other adults scattered around.

They could go relatively unnoticed there, just a man and his wife...and the grandson of Darth Vader.

Organa could evade all she wanted. Jango taught him to watch people. Watch how they moved, evaluate their strengths and weaknesses. “You wasted your time on the wrong jedi,” his dad had told Dooku, only minutes before they entered the arena on Geonosis. “You should have tried to turn the younger one. He’s angry. Impatient.”

He watched Ben swing easily up on the bars, sliding around poles and hanging upside down until his dark curls almost touched the ground. A million credits for one skinny kid, easy. Maybe several million to the right client. Ben was his son according to the vow he’d made at the processing center. He could take him and fly anywhere in the galaxy, no stops or questions.

_I know your name as my child_.

He might have given his word for false purposes, but he hadn’t given it falsely. Ben was a child, and while his deal with Organa was in effect, Ben was _his_ child. Selling him would make him no better than the lowest slave trader.

“Someone’s coming towards us,” Organa murmured, shifting closer to him on the bench. “From the shuttle stop.”

Boba didn’t look. He could hear it in the murmur to the people milling around. “It’s the _Mand’alor_.” He put his arm along the back of the bench, his hand resting on her upper arm. Just a man and his wife.

Bo-Katan Kryze stode into view, one of her generals close behind. They both stopped a few paces from the bench and removed their helmets, the traditional Mandalorian way of saying they were just here to talk. “Fett,” Kryze spoke first. “ _Su cuy'gar_ , and I mean that sincerely.”

Boba stayed in his seat. “Same to you. Keep it up and you might last longer than your sister.” 

Her general took a step closer. “Stand up you little _di’kut_. Or do I have to haul you up by the scruff of your neck like I did when you were small?”

“Have we met?” Boba deliberately tilted his head to one side, watching the old clone closely. “You look sort of familiar.”

The general exchanged looks with the  _Mand’alor_. “I told you,” he said.

“I’m Bo-Katan Kryze,” she announced, this time addressing Organa. “And this is General Cody. Welcome to Mandalore.”

His wife put her hand over his where it rested on her arm and did a deft little maneuver where she ducked under it and stood without letting go. He had to stand, or awkwardly jerk his hand from her grasp, so he stood. Her fingers threaded through his, hiding where her elbow was digging into his side. “I’m Allennia Joldo,” she said sweetly. “What an honor to meet you after all this time trying to reach your beautiful world.”

“Arla tells me you want to head out to Concordia,” Kryze was never a woman to bother with small talk.

“I’ve heard there’s work out there.” Boba wasn’t sure what to make of this personal attention to his request. He didn’t like it. “I’m sure you know that one of us needs a job to apply for residency.”

“The sooner the better.” The _Mand’alor_ said crisply, and then paused. “We’re shortening the application cycle to three lunar cycles, effective immediately. You’ll be approved or denied then.”

“Three?” Organa echoed in a much sharper tone. “From thirteen? That’s quite a cut.”

“There’s been an outbreak of _Nu’enbar_ virus on the transport _Moonbeam_ ,” Cody said gravely. “It’s the most dangerous for the old, young and pregnant, so we’re trying to get those units off and qualified for residency. From now on, people with no children or children older than five will be a lower priority.”

“Is that a warning?” Boba asked, careful to show no hint of emotion.

“Your application will be given the same consideration as everyone else’s,” Kryze replied, her green eyes as hard as emeralds. “But I wouldn’t get...comfortable.”

Organa’s fingers tightened around his.

“For what it’s worth,” Cody offered, “your aunt is doing everything she can for you. She seems to have taken a shine to your boy.”

Ben was standing about ten paces away, watching them. Organa gestured to him and forced a smile. “Come over here. This is the _Mand’alor_ , the chieftain of the Mandalorian clans. And this is General Cody.”

“Hi.” Ben sidled up to his mother. “I like your armor.”

The _Mand’alor_ gave a stiff nod, but Cody winked warmly at Ben. “You’ll have a set of your own someday. I’d bet on it.”

“Time to be off,” Kryze said. She seemed to be determined not to look at the small child gazing up at her. “ _Ret'urcye mhi_. And good luck to you.”

Cody drew a credit out of his belt and handed it to Ben. “See that vendor over there with the red cart? Go get yourself an ice moon. A big one.”

“General,” Kryze said sternly. She took a step back, but Cody lingered.

“ _Hiibir baatir be gar aliit_ , Boba.”

Boba gazed back at the older version of himself. There was compassion in his eyes and he should take advantage of that. But even now, with everything at stake, he couldn’t. It was bad enough that he had to stand here and look at those eyes to begin with. To see the lines creasing around them, the gray stumble at his temples, the heaviness of his jaw. 

Organa could do the ass-kissing for both of them. She was good at it.

As soon as they were gone, she released his hand with a shaky sigh. Ben tugged on her tunic, the credit clutched tight in his fist. “Can I have an ice moon? I don’t have to get a big one.”

“Go ahead,” she told him, sinking back down on the bench. “It’s your money. Get whatever you want.”

Boba remained standing, watching the boy as he ran to the vendor cart. “Arla’s on our side. That’s something.”

“It may not be enough. A three-cycle application period means they’ll be rushing through paperwork, looking for any excuse to deny residency. And we haven’t even applied.”

“Have to get a job first.”

“Maybe I should look.”

“You have to stay hidden.” A job in Sundari would only be moving him further from his goal. “Concordia is still our best bet.”

She leaned back on the bench and rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “What did General Cody say to you? The only word I caught was ‘family.’”

“He told me to take care of you.”

Organa’s gaze strayed toward her son and her hands dropped back to her lap. “I was just thinking about the couple who entered with us. With the two older girls. I wonder where they’re from.” Her fingers twisted the edge of her tunic. “I wonder if they can go back.”

“There are options,” Boba told her, mindful of the public setting. “If it comes down to it.”

“You have options,” she returned grimly. “I have a six-year old. I don’t want running to be his entire life, damn it. If I have to give up everything, I want him to have-”

Ben came running back over with a frozen treat on a stick the size of his head. His triumphant smile vanished immediately. “What’s wrong?”

There was that fake smile again. The one that wasn’t fooling the boy one bit. “Nothing, I’m fine. It’s just a headache.”

“We should head back,” Boba told him. “Can you walk and eat?”


	6. New Life

“What’s that?”

Leia closed the holoprojector with a flick of her fingers. “Nothing,” she told her son. “Just the news. Did you finish your lesson?”

“Yes.”

“Can you say it to me?”

Ben’s shoulders heaved in a sigh of exasperation. “ _Solus, t’ad, ehn, cuir, rayshe’a, resol, e’tad, sh’ehn, she’cu, ta’raysh._ ”

“Good. Work on ten through twenty next. Did you do your vocabulary?”

“Are we staying here?”

She wanted to have an answer for him. She _should_ have an answer for him. She should be able to tell him _something_. All she could think about were the refugees from the _Moonbeam_ transport arriving in the city on the holofeed she had been watching. Parents carrying babies in their arms, elderly people leaning on their relatives. They were just as tired and as desperate as she was, and she knew any one of those family units could take their place. They could be the end of all of this. Everything she’d worked and sacrificed for.

She hated this. Hated that she was even forced to think like this. Hated that she felt so helpless.

“I don’t know,” she told Ben finally. “I hope so.”

“Are we staying with Fett?”

Leia straightened a little, watching her son closely. “Would it be okay with you if we did?”

“I guess.” Ben shrugged. “He eats all the food I don’t like. That’s good.”

Her son was correct. Their usual meals consisted of inexpensive packaged and canned foods with the occasional side of raw fruit or vegetables. Fett ate anything and everything and took seconds. In a strange way, it reminded her of Han. She used to tease him about his appetite until he made an off-handed remark about never knowing where the next meal was coming from.

A sudden pounding on the door interrupted her thoughts. “She’s back,” Ben said, taking a step in reverse. “I don’t want any of that cake.”

It was Arla, but she hadn’t brought cake. “Just like a proper _beskad_ ,” she said, offering the short sword to Ben with a flourish. “But this one's wood. A _shaapkad_.”

Ben’s eyes were as big as moons as he took it. “It looks just like the pictures in my book! Mom, look!”

“It’s a very nice present. What do you say?”

“Thank you!” He gave the curved wooden blade a swing, grinning from ear to ear, and Leia moved the holoprojector out of his range.

“Really,” She told Arla, “you shouldn’t have.”

Fett’s aunt put her hands on Ben’s shoulders and turned him towards the door. “It’s for outdoors. Go play in the courtyard while I talk to your ma.”

“I’m not allowed.”

Leia smiled tightly, aware of Arla’s curious look. “I’ll watch you from the balcony. Go ahead.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Leia followed him out and stopped at the railing outside the door while he went down the stairs. She was only two floors up. She could reach him quickly if something happened.

Arla put her hands on the railing beside her. “Maybe it’s different on Kuat, but here kids can play outside their own homes.”

“We’ve had some bad experiences.”

Arla seemed to accept that. “Where’s Boba today?”

“Looking for work.” Or so he claimed. “He says there’s not much available in the city for non-residents.”

“I’m working on your permits. I have to find someone on Concordia who will be responsible for you, make sure you follow the rules and don’t go missing.”

“We appreciate anything you can do. We were...informed of the accelerated application period.”

The older woman gave a harsh laugh. “Yup. That’s a real mess. Word is there will be some extensions for folks who came in before the _Moonbeam_ outbreak. But no one knows how many or for how long. And the priority will be for the old and young. The most vulnerable.” She fixed her eyes on Leia with an assessing look. “No chance you’re pregnant, is there?”

“No.”

“I wondered if he could,” Arla said matter-of-factly. “But he has you now, and Ben.” She looked down at Ben, practicing with his sword in the sparse little courtyard, and a rueful smile touched her lips. “Family is everything to a Mandalorian, but my family was just a lot of bad memories. I never tried to have another. Jango dealt with it...differently.”

_He was my dad. He raised me._

“Boba seems to have good memories.”

Arla considered that for a moment. “Does he? Good. Can’t say that’s true for all of them.” She pointed down at Ben, who was bounding from bench to bench, carrying the wooden sword with ease. “Look at that now, he’s getting the hang of it. Good reflexes, for a kid. Good anticipation.”

“His father was a pilot.”

The older woman straightened beside her. “There’s only so much I can do. Bo-Katan can’t be seen as playing favorites with an old Death Watch pal.”

Leia turned her head sharply. “The _Mand’alor_ was in the Death Watch.”

“That’s right. Long time ago.” Her hands moved restlessly on the railing. “I left when Bo-Katan did. We fought the Empire together and now we’ll fight the Scourge, if it comes to it.”

“I haven’t been able to get a lot of news,” Leia said carefully. “I have family still in the core.”

“ _Haar’chak_. I’m sorry.” Arla shook her head. “The only news is bad and just plain bizarre. Did you hear about the Republic gun ship near Carida?”

“No.”

“The Scourge boarded it, but some kind of fight broke out between them and it was caught on an open transmission line. You know that language they invented for themselves, no one’s really cracked it yet, but what they caught is just gibberish. Someone babbling the same words over and over again like they’re having a nervous breakdown.”

“What happened to the crew?”

“Oh. No survivors. Just like always.” The older woman cleared her throat. “Well, enough about all that. You need anything, you comm me.”

“Thank you.” Leia turned her attention back to the courtyard, to her son running and jumping. Swinging a toy sword. He looked happy. He didn’t have to worry about where his next meal was coming from.

There was always the last resort. She could reveal her true identity and plead her case to the _Mand’alor_. She might be valuable enough to warrant protection. But if word got out, her presence could draw the First Order here. And since Leia had nothing of her own to offer, Bo-Katan Kryze might decide that she made a better bargaining chip than an ally.

Those red eyes were still out there, hunting her in her dreams.

_The boy. He will be mine._

Throwing herself at the mercy of Mandalore would also mean abandoning her deal with Fett, who might have little chance of residency on his own. In spite of their adversarial past, he’d been a perfectly courteous fake husband and she was reluctant to screw him over.

A thought began to form in her mind, a thought that had a million flaws for her to pick and poke at. It stayed there in her mind for the rest of the day, turning around and around. She kept picking at it through Fett’s return and supper and putting Ben to bed.

It wasn’t until the bounty hunter went to the ‘fresher to clean his teeth and change for bed that she came to a decision. She donned her sleepshirt and busied herself in the kitchen. As soon as he emerged, she told him about Arla’s visit.

“She thinks we’re on the chopping block.” His expression was grim.

“That’s certainly the impression I got.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “We could run for it. If we could get out of this _karking_ iron testicle of a city.”

“If we’re caught, the chances of either one of us getting residency-”

“I know.” He braced his arms against the counter, his shoulders hunched in concentration. “I could try to bribe someone.”

“With _what_?”

“There’s always something people want.”

“We could have a baby,” she said, her heart pounding in her chest.

He gave a short, mirthless laugh. “We can’t do that.”

“Can’t or shouldn’t?” She leaned over the opposite edge of the counter. “I can think of a hundred reasons why we shouldn’t, but _can_ we?”

Fett looked up at her sharply. “What does that mean?”

Her cheeks burned, but she held her ground. “I know you have some differences from the other clones. Your growth wasn’t accelerated. Do you know if you can…”

He straightened and folded his arms over his chest. “Only the later batches of clones were sterilized. Don’t think the possibility ever occurred to the Kaminoans until it happened. And I’m unaltered. Pure genetic replication. So the answer to your question is, _in theory_. Now I have a question for you. What the _fek_ would we do with a baby?”

“Raise it. Or at least, I would. Once we have residency, you’re free to do as you please. I’m not asking you for anything, other than your…cooperation.”

It was important to sound confident. She couldn’t let any hint of doubt through. She couldn’t think about starting all over again with a baby and none of the help she’d had with Ben. Being a single mother with two children, trying to find work, buying a nanny droid, the sleepless nights and endless list of chores. That was the best case scenario. That was the life she could hope for only if Mandalore held against the Scourge and the First Order and she was very, _very_ lucky.

“What if I took it?”

He spoke so abruptly, it took nearly a full minute for his words to register. “You.”

Fett gave her a look of mild offense. “You don’t think I could?”

It was a solution so perfect, it might as well have been gift-wrapped, but Leia’s sense of responsibility balked at the idea of giving a helpless baby to a bounty hunter. “I didn’t say that. Honestly you’re not bad with Ben, but...all things considered, your life might be even more dangerous than mine.”

“My dad managed it.”

“Until he died.” She could tell what he was about to say and held up her hand to stop him from saying it. “I know. This was my idea. And I’m not opposed to it if this is something you want, but I need to know exactly what your plan is.”

“I’ve thought about it before. Having a child.” His eyes met hers and he really did seem to be sincere. “More as I’ve gotten older. I know it would change everything, but…” He shrugged. “You could be the emergency custodian. In the event of my death.”

“That’s...a start.” She exhaled and shook her head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We have to get pregnant first, _and_ petition for the extension, and the gods only know if we can get that far.”

“So.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a rueful smile. “This isn’t my area of expertise. What do we do?”

“What people normally do. Only we don’t try to prevent what people normally try to prevent when they do it.”

“When do we start?”

“The mid-point of my cycle is supposed to be best, but it’s not always that precise. Ben, for example, was conceived at the earliest point, just after my bleeding stopped. And we need to take every opportunity, _so_ …”

“Tonight?” Both dark brows arched upward in surprise. “You want to start tonight.”

“If you’re up for it.” She tried to inject a little lightness in her tone, but it sounded flat, even to her own ears.

He tilted his head towards the bedroom. “After you.”

Leia went to the bedroom, acutely aware of his footsteps behind her. She sat on the edge of the bed and hiked her nightshirt up around her hips. She had left off her underwear, just in case she was successful in making her case. “The chances of conception will be better if I’m on my back.” She settled down on top of the blanket, her hands folded over her stomach. “Ready when you are.”

Fett looked down at her spread legs and without a word, unsnapped his pants.

Leia fixed her eyes on the smooth gray expanse of the ceiling, not wanting to unnerve him by watching. The mattress sank as he knelt between her feet and she could feel the heat emanating from his body before she even felt his skin against hers.

She was worried she wouldn’t be able to do this without thinking about Han, but this was nothing like falling into bed with her husband, kissing and touching and laughing. This was more like the artificial insemination of nerfs she’d witnessed once on a tour of the agricultural industry on Alderaan. Something hard and hot brushed the inside of her thigh and she shut her eyes. All she had to do was lay here, breathe, and get it over with.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” His breathing was uneven.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “I really wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

In spite of her confidence, her body tensed in protest the moment he tried to enter her. She wasn’t very wet and it felt like he was trying to put it in sideways.

“Ow. Wait.” It had been a while, after all. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even masturbated. “Try again,” she told Fett. He pressed into her again, and she squirmed, trying to twist her hips into the right position.

“ _Fek_. That’s not helping.”

“I’m trying to-”

“Hold _still_.”

Leia raised her head and glared at him. “Oh yes, by all means, _snarl_ at me. That will _definitely_ help.”

He exhaled loudly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe you could...use spit or something. Just to get things started.”

His brows drew together and he glanced down between her legs. “You want me to-”

“Just spit on your hand and get your _kriffing_ dick wet.” Leia let her head fall back on the bed in exasperation.

He muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t make out, but did as she asked. She could hear the slick rhythm of his hand on his cock, and then he was pressing against her folds again and even with a little wetness her body resisted.

Frustrated, Leia shut her eyes and desperately reached for some old fantasy, an image, a thought, anything to stimulate her body. But all she could feel was the roughness of the blanket beneath her and the sweat-damp skin of the stranger trying to penetrate her. Her eyes opened and her hand flew up and pushed against his chest. “Stop. This isn’t going to work.”

“ _Karking_ right it’s not,” Fett huffed, his annoyance clear. His cock was standing fully erect, shining with spit and in spite of everything, Leia felt a small twinge of arousal. There wasn’t anything wrong with _that_. Maybe basing this on nerf insemination was the wrong approach.

“Can we try again tomorrow?” She asked as she pulled herself up. “Maybe with some lube and a bottle of alcohol?”

He looked mildly surprised, but he nodded. “Sure.”

She pulled her shirt down over her thighs. “I’m going to put on some underwear. Do you...hm...need a minute?”

“No.” The bounty hunter moved to his side of the bed and stretched out naked, his sleeping pants abandoned on the floor. Even with the extensive scarring from his burns he was still a man in his physical prime, strong and solid, his cock stubbornly pointing up at the ceiling. He tucked an arm behind his pillow and exhaled, his eyes half closed. “Can you get the light?”

Leia quickly looked away. “Of course.” It was absolutely _kriffing_ stupid to start blushing now.

 


	7. Chances

He saw the man enter the shop behind him. Tall. Fair. Nice clothing, nice armor. Boba knew he was being watched, but none of the _Mand’alor_ ’s previous spies were this obvious. Then again, they were the only two customers in an expensive oil and perfume shop. Maybe he was interested in something else.

He was about to find out.

“Can I help you?” The clerk was a young Zabrak with striking mottled skin and horn buds parting her hair.

“I need something for sex.”

She didn’t even blink. A true professional. “Right this way.” She gestured at a shelf with a row of colorful bottles. “These are all safe and natural lubricants. Any particular scent or flavor?”

Organa hadn’t specified. “Some lube and a bottle of alcohol,” she’d said. The alcohol part was easy. He didn’t generally drink and didn’t like the taste of _tihaar_ , but he thought he might be able to get away with feigning a sip here and there.

He picked up the closest bottle so he could see the price on the bottom. From the looks of it, the _tihaar_ was going to be a lot cheaper too. “I’ll let you look,” the clerk said tactfully and busied herself elsewhere. Only half of Boba’s attention was on his selection anyway, the other half was occupied by the man edging closer to him.

“The green one’s nice. Doesn’t have as strong a scent as some of others.”

“That’s helpful.” Boba favored the man with a sideways glance. “Have we met?”

“No, but I think we have mutual acquaintances. I’m Korkie Kryze.”

The _Mand’alor_ ’s nephew. That made sense. “So you are watching me.”

“Of course.” There was no hesitation in his response. 

“Can I borrow thirty credits?”

That caught him off guard, but only a for moment. He looked like he was trying not to smile. “For-?”

Boba jerked his head at the oils. “I’m out of work right now.”

“You know there are cheaper places to get that kind of thing.”

“My wife likes nice things. What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t try to get her what she likes?”

“Well. When you put it like that.” Kryze reached into his belt and handed over the credits.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it. No reason we can’t be friends, unless of course you’re here to murder my aunt.”

“Is that what she thinks?” Boba picked up the green bottle off the shelf. “If I was contracted to kill her, I wouldn't be here. I’d find someone close to her, someone who isn’t happy with their position and thinks they could do a better job.” He looked over at Kryze. “That’s how they got you, right?”

Pale blue eyes met his, his gaze as sharp as the blade of a knife. “She’s my _blood_. I would never hurt her. My recent... _associations_ are about what’s best for Mandalore.”

“So we can go our separate ways.”

“We can try.” Kryze’s smile was hard. “ _Ret'urcye mhi_ , Fett.”

Boba watched him leave before taking the bottle to the clerk and handing her the credits.

“Here’s your change,” she said. “You could have asked him for twenty.”

“His fault for not doing his own shopping.” Boba slid a credit back across the counter. “That’s for not saying anything.”

She took it with a little grin. “Hope your wife likes it.”

Organa didn’t say anything when he showed it to her. She nodded and whisked Ben away to bed. Boba took the oil and _tihaar_ into the bedroom. There didn’t seem to be any point in putting on his sleeping clothes, so he stripped naked and got into bed, sitting upright with the blanket over his lap. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen everything, but he got the impression last night that she wasn’t entirely comfortable with it.

When Organa entered the bedroom she was wearing her sleepshirt. She sat on the bed beside him and held out her hand. “Alcohol.”

He gave her the brown earthenware bottle that contained the _tihaar_ and she sniffed it first. “Smells like an orchard.” He realized too late that he should have warned her that it was a painfully strong liquor. Her first swig left her coughing until her eyes watered. “ _Kriffing_ hell. That...that should do it.”

“It’s very traditional.”

“Oh, good. Cultural immersion. An important part of any language intensive.”

He didn’t know what the hell she was talking about, so he settled his back against the headboard of the bed and waited.

She took another drink and shuddered as she swallowed it. “Do you want to watch some porn?”

“If you want.”

“It might...I don’t know.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Find something Mandalorian to go with the _tihaar_.”

He picked up the console control on the table beside the bed. “Mandalorian” wasn’t a porn category that he was aware of, but after a quick search he found one that was recorded on Concord Dawn. The setting was some kind of temple ritual with very fake looking props. The woman had long dark hair and her captive was a fair-haired man who was bound to a faux-stone column with glittering cords.

“Interesting choice,” Organa remarked.  

The woman began to rub her body against the man, first her breasts and then her ass. “You’re mine now,” she cooed. “You’ll never break free of my magic.”

Organa laughed, a sound he’d never heard from her. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just...silly.” She passed him the bottle and he faked a drink while the woman in the porn removed her top and opened the man’s pants. She knelt immediately in front of him and took his erect cock into her mouth.

“A man wrote this,” Organa announced.

Boba held out the control to her. “Pick something else.”

“No, no. I’m starting to get into it.” In the porn, the woman removed her mouth from the man’s cock, leaving it wet and shining with her saliva. Organa took another swig from the bottle and hummed.

The woman pushed her breasts up, sliding the man’s cock between them as he groaned helplessly. Boba stopped watching and turned his attention instead to Organa’s bare leg next to his own. The moaning in the porn faded into the background as his eyes traced the line of her calf, from her ankle to her knee and then up to where the edge of her sleepshirt rested on her thighs. Last night she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“I think I’m ready for the other bottle.”

His gaze swiftly returned to Organa, who set the _tihaar_ down beside the bed and settled back on her knees. She grasped the edge of her sleepshirt and pulled it over her head in one motion. “It’s okay,” she said when he averted his eyes out of habit. “Visual stimulation. They’re not as big as hers.”

They were not. But they were, without a doubt, _stimulating_. Boba slid his hand beneath the blanket and stroked his half-hard cock while Organa reached for the oil. She poured a little on her fingers. “Oh. That smells nice. I’ll do me and you do you.” She passed him the bottle. “And maybe I should be on top to start.”

Her fingers slipped between her legs, and she adjusted her knees further apart. “Wow. She is _flexible_.”

Boba glanced back at the porn, where the woman was currently impaling herself on the man’s cock by lifting one leg up above her waist in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable position. He flipped back the blanket and dribbled a little of the oil onto the palm of his hand. It had a sweet and slightly nutty scent. “You can’t do that?”

She huffed out a laugh, her fingers still working between her legs. “Sorry to disappoint you.” Her cheeks and her throat were flushed, her breathing irregular. The oil shone on her fingers and thighs and the dark curls between her legs and at the moment she was far more interesting to look at then the woman in the porn.

“Ready,” he said, releasing his slicked-up shaft.

“Yes you _are_.” She looked down at it and bit her lower lip, her chest rising and falling. She wiped her fingers on her thigh and then her hands found a place on the headboard behind him as she straddled his lap. “Well, here goes nothing.”

Her fingertips brushed his straining cock, nudging it into place and suddenly he was halfway inside of her. _Fek_. She drew up a little and adjusted her hips before taking him further in. His fingers curled into the sheets beneath them as she repeated the motion, sheathing his cock completely in the heat of her body. “There," she murmured. “I knew we could do it.” Her breath was hot on his cheek and smelled faintly of overripe plums from the _tihaar_.

Boba had no response, mostly because the roar of static that currently filled his head didn't allow for speech. She drew herself up and down a few more times, her lips parted with concentration. “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to lay on my back now.”

Her heat left him, making it all too easy to follow her as she spread her legs. She was open and slick and one thrust brought them back together. Her eyes shut and her hips rolled into his with a sharp inhalation that was almost a moan. It set his blood on fire, and from there it was all heat and rhythm and the wet slap of skin until he came.

He kept thrusting through it, driven by instinct to fill her up as much as he could. To maximize every chance. When he was completely spent, he pushed himself off of her and rolled onto his back. His arms were _karking_ shaking like he’d just scaled a sheer cliff face.

Organa drew her knees up to her chest and sighed. “Good job.”

He could speak now, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Thanks? Same to you? You’re the first person I’ve ever done that with and it was better than I thought it would be?

In the porn, the woman was still riding the captive man’s cock, rubbing herself and moaning loudly. “I’m gonna cooooome,” she wailed. “Oooohhhhhh.” Boba turned his attention back to the woman on the bed beside him. “Do you you need…” Something? Anything? Privacy? Help?

“No, that’s not necessary.” She took a long deep breath. “I just need to lay like this for a few minutes, and then I’ll be ready to go to sleep.”

“I’ll go wash up.” He sat up and gestured at the porn. “You want me to turn that off?”

“Yes. I think I can guess how it ends.”

By the time he returned from the ‘fresher she was under the blanket with her eyes closed. He fell into bed beside her and fell almost immediately into a deep sleep. He woke up when he heard Ben moving around in the kitchen. Organa was still soundly sleeping, she didn’t even stir when he slipped out of bed and put his sleeping pants back on.

The boy had climbed on top of the counter to reach the shelves and was now sitting on it cross-legged, eating fruit and crackers. Boba still remembered the first time he realized he could reach the top shelf by putting an armor crate on top of a chair. His dad had woken up to find him finishing off the last box of cookies and couldn’t seem to decide between annoyance and pride.

He always seemed to consider it a fun game, to try to out-think a child and to allow himself to be surprised. Boba wondered what kind of child he could make with Leia Organa. If they would have her swift mind and resolute nature. If they would let nothing stand in their way. He was warming more and more to the idea. He could be a father. Maybe it wasn't in his original plan, but plans could be altered when new opportunities arose. And once his job here was completed, he would have more than enough money to take some time off. 

He switched on the caf maker and nodded at Ben’s crackers. “Can I have one?”

The boy took a moment to decide which cracker to sacrifice before he handed it over. “Where’s mom?”

“Still sleeping.”

“Can I go outside and play with my _shaapkad_?”

“Are you allowed?”

Ben’s eyes shifted from left to right quickly. “Yes.”

A truly terrible _sabacc_ face. Not hard to believe he was Han Solo’s kid. “No.” Boba picked up a handful of grapes. “I’m going to shower.”

He was getting dressed when he heard voices in the main room. _Fek_. Had Ben gone outside anyway and gotten into some kind of trouble? He paused at the door and his shoulders slumped in relief. Arla. But she wasn’t alone. As soon as he walked out he saw General Cody admiring Ben’s wooden sword.

“I did it,” his aunt was smirking triumphantly. “I found you a sponsor on Concordia. It’s even someone you know from Kamino.”

Boba didn’t look at Cody, but the man remained fixed in his peripheral vision like a migraine. “Another clone?”

“Nope. Fenn Rau. He’s doing some security shore-ups at an old base and he needs men.”

Rau was one of the younger trainers who worked mostly with the fighter squadrons. Boba didn’t remember much about him, but at least he wasn’t a clone. “When can we leave?”

Cody folded his arms over his chest. “Today, if you like, and you don’t mind an escort.”

“What’s going on?” Leia stood blinking in the bedroom doorway, her hair mussed and the wide neckline of her nightshirt askew enough to bare one shoulder.

“Sorry to wake you,” Arla said, one brow arched. “Bad night? Or good night?”

“I had a little too much _tihaar_ ,” she answered with a grimace.

Cody gave a short bark of a laugh. “First time?” Boba gave him a swift look before he realized that the general was talking to his wife. “The first time kicks like a skipjacked hyperdrive.”

“It’s better the second time,” Arla assured her. “And even better the third. There’s nothing more Mandalorian than a shot of _tihaar_ before a fight. Makes you feel invincible.” She thumped her chestplate with her fists, her eyes bright.

“Pack your things,” Boba told Organa, who still looked a little confused. “We're leaving."

Her eyes widened. “We’re-”

“For Concordia,” he clarified quickly. “Arla found me a job.”

“It’s a shift job,” Arla told him with a shrug. “Lots of walking and standing, not a lot of action. But it comes with housing and there’s a school nearby.” She nodded at Ben. “You get good marks and I’ll get you a set of plates to go with your _shaapkad_.”

The boy's eyes widened. "I'll go get my stuff."

As soon as he left the room, Arla's expression sobered. "It's a chance," she warned them. "That's all it is."

Boba shared a quick glance with Organa. "We'll take it."


	8. Concordia

There was a part of Leia that resisted the idea of boarding another transport. A secret fear that once the doors closed they would not be heading for Concordia, but would instead be deported to Kuat. Right into the arms of the First Order.

Arla’s presence helped. She might not have the warmest relationship with her nephew, but Leia really did believe she was on their side. And she seemed to be on good terms with General Cody, who was the one the charge here. After speaking with the pilots he joined them on the padded benches lining the passenger dome. Leia was sitting close enough to Fett to feel his shoulder tense the second the general sat.

Ben ran from window to window, watching as Mandalore shrank beneath them. “I wish I had my sword,” he said when he tired of sightseeing. At Leia’s insistence, the wooden sword was in the cargo hold with the rest of their meager belongings.

Leia held out the holoprojector. “You could work on your _Mando’a_ lessons. You said the matching game was fun.”

“Not as fun as my sword.”

Arla was obviously pleased by the success of her present. The older woman stretched out her legs and beckoned to Ben. “Bring your game over here, I’ll play it with you.”

That occupied him for a while, but eventually he started yawning. Leia suspected he’d gotten up too early. She turned to Fett. “Can I have your jacket?” When he handed it to her, she rolled it up and placed it on the bench beside her. She patted the cushions and Ben came over and laid down with his head on the bounty hunter’s jacket.

She was more aware now of Fett when she took care of her son. She hoped he was watching. Maybe taking notes. Above all she hoped he truly wanted a child, because they were on their way to making one. The odds of conception on the first try were vanishingly small, of course, but it still could happen.

And at least she knew that she could still have sex. That it wouldn’t be just a painful reminder of what she had lost. There was a even a moment or two where she felt genuinely aroused. Maybe one day, after all of this was over…

One thing at a time. First she needed to establish herself as a model immigrant working hard to adopt Mandalorian culture and raise little warriors.

“General Cody,” she said. “Can you tell me anything about where we’re going?”

The general nodded. “Sure I can. Do you know anything about Concordia?”

“Very little.”

“It’s where the Death Watch was exiled after the Mandalorian Civil War. What isn’t a mine or a forest is probably one of their old strongholds. That’s where you’re going. It’s called _Bral’ruus_.”

“Rock fort.” Fett translated.

“We didn’t waste a lot of time on pretty words,” Arla added dryly before she turned toward Cody. “The Empire used it as a training base too, didn’t they? For Saxon’s commandos?”

“Yup. I spent almost eight cycles there, training that sorry lot.” His lip curled briefly in an expression of disgust. “But then they sent me to Mandalore and Bo-Katan made a traitor out of me.”

That caught Leia’s attention immediately. “You defected? That sounds like a story I’d like to hear.”

Cody shifted and looked her over appraisingly. “You’re young. How much do you know about the Clone War?”

“I used to work in a museum. We had exhibits.”

“This is a story about the things that didn’t make it into the museums.” He touched his temple. “I was microchipped. We all were. An emergency override, just in case our training failed. After Order 66...I was told by the Emperor himself that the Jedi Order was behind the chips. He said the council wanted it as a safeguard in case any of their knights turned to the dark side. He showed me documents. Recordings. The jedi authorized the clone army, he said. The jedi made slaves out of us, put microchips in our heads like we were no more than droids. The jedi pretended to c-care about us-”

His voice broke, and he paused, his jaw tight. “I believed him. It made it easier to live with what I’d done. He promised to have all the chips removed, now that the Jedi Order was gone. Said we’d be free, but that we would always have a place in the army. A place of honor.”

He leaned over to look at Ben, checking to make sure he was still sleeping. “The Jedi I was assigned to, he told me once his childhood nickname was ‘Ben.’ He had a cousin, a little older, who couldn’t pronounce ‘Obi-Wan’ and called him ‘Bee-Un.’ Over time it became ‘Ben.’”

“You mean General Kenobi?” Leia could barely get the words out. “You were assigned to Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

“He probably _would_ be in the museums, the handsome bastard.” Cody smiled, but the gesture looked a little forced. “I was assigned to him. I also tried to kill him.”

There were a thousand questions Leia wanted to ask, but she had to be careful. What would Allennia Joldo know? What would she be curious about?

“Enough about your guilt,” Arla cut in, folding her arms over her chest. “Get to the part with Bo-Katan, that’s the good part.”

“You just want to brag about how the two of you kidnapped me.”

“Damn right, we did.”

“Right off an Imperial transport,” Cody acknowledged. “Carried me off with their jetpacks so I couldn’t fight without falling to my death.”

“That was my idea.”

“You’ve told me.” Cody gave Leia an exasperated look, inviting her into what must be a long-running joke.

“So...you said Bo-Katan turned you?”

“She got her hands on the only thing that could have turned me. A message from my _vod_ , Rex. About the chips. About who was really behind them, all the way back to the beginning. To Jango Fett himself.”

Out of the corner of her eye Leia saw her husband raise his head.

“There’s a reason many of us feel a connection to Mandalore,” Cody continued, “and it’s not just what we learned on Kamino. This was where we started from because this is where Jango started. All of the clan fighting, the civil war, the Death Watch, the Protectors, it’s why we exist. He thought we were the solution.”

“You don’t know what he thought.” Fett spoke coldly. “Maybe he just wanted to get paid.”

“And he did.” Cody leaned back in his seat. “But the fact that you exist probably means it was worth more than credits to him.” He turned his head toward Arla as if he expected her to say something, but she looked away.

The rest of the trip passed quickly enough, with Cody and Arla offering bits and pieces about Concordia as the moon grew closer. When they landed, Cody stayed with the ship, wishing them good luck and reminding them to check in with their sponsor at once.

Arla was the one who contacted him from the docking bay. “Rau says he’ll meet us at your house,” she told them. The stronghold of _Bral’ruus_ was exactly as the name suggested, a fortified complex tucked between mountain peaks. In the center was the base, which was used as a cargo stop by the Mandalorian military and the Protectors. There was also a cantina, two general stores and a building that served as both a meeting house and a school for the population’s children.

There were houses all around the edges of the complex. Military housing and single units tucked into the edge of the thick green forest. The house allotted to them was at the end of a long, rough trail, not easily spotted from a distance. It was barely larger than the apartment in Sundari, and the appliances were much older. Leia was sure she had never seen a sonic clothing cleaner that old.

“Hey, look, a table.” Ben ran his hand along the smooth surface. “Four chairs. Some shelves…” He wandered off towards the bedrooms. “Mom. My bed. Is on. The floor.”

Leia went to investigate. Sure enough, the beds were comprised of thick mattresses with leather bottoms that were placed directly on the floor.

“That’s traditional Mandalorian bedding there,” Arla noted. “No squeaking, no creaking. Solid beneath you and easy to transport if you have to travel.”

“What about…” Leia took a quick look around. “Vermin?”

“That’s why you keep a blaster set to stun beside the bed.”

“Did someone say something about needing a blaster?” Fenn Rau was carrying a crate under one arm and mesh sack in the other. He set them down on the table with a thump and dusted off his gloves. He was a man just on the other side of middle-aged, gray mixing in with his coppery hair. “Welcome to Concordia. Boba, you certainly have grown. Here.” He pushed the mesh bag towards Fett. It contained armor the same blue as Rau’s.

The bounty hunter wasted no time checking it out. “Work uniform?” He asked, turning the helmet over in his hands.

“Yes, but also yours to keep.”

Ben crowded in to take a look, and Fett passed him the helmet. There were two blasters in with the armor, and he slid one across the table to Leia, who caught it without thinking and did exactly what she was trained to do. She checked the charges and the safety while he did the same with the other blaster.

“Well. You handle a gun all right for a translator,” Arla commented, and Leia froze.

“Oh...Boba...taught me a few things.”

Fett gave her a subtle nod of acknowledgement as he took the blaster back. Ben was holding up pieces of armor and asking for their names and Arla’s attention was quickly drawn away. Leia breathed a sigh of relief and glanced over at Rau. Her heart sank. His eyes were fixed on her face.

He knew.

“I’ve got a crate of food out in my speeder, and some blankets.” He turned toward the door and Leia hurried after him.

“I’ll help you.”

She couldn’t alert Fett that she’d been spotted. He had a charged blaster in his hands and Rau was armed as well. There were too many ways for this to turn ugly. If there was any chance she could talk her way out of this, she had to take it.

The moment the door closed behind them, Rau turned to face her. His eyes were burning and his jaw was set. “The reports said that you were dead. Did anyone else get out?”

“Not that I’ve heard. Who-”

“Sabine Wren.”

The name hit her like a blow. Of course. “Sabine,” she said, trying not to let her voice break, “was a true hero.”

Fenn Rau looked away. “I should have been with her. She asked me to come. She asked me for help. I let Bo-Katan talk me out of it like a damn _fool_.”

“I don’t know if it would have made a difference. Half our force broke and ran. Even a squadron of Mandalorians-”

“We both know you’re just saying that to make me feel better. I should have been there. She was family to me.” He blinked rapidly and worked his jaw. “You know how I recognized you? She sent me a holo still she took with you, after you gave her some kind of medal. It’s been in my cockpit for years.”

“I-I remember that day.”

_Sabine Wren. Our hope for peace is with you and others like you._

“She wanted me to be proud of her.”

Leia could feel his anguish in every corner of her being. It was the same pain she carried with her every second of every day. “Please,” she said. “Please don’t tell anyone who I am.”

Rau drew in a ragged breath and looked back towards the house. “Is the boy yours?”

“Yes. He’s my son and he’s in a great deal of danger if the First Order finds out we’re here.”

“Is that where Fett comes into it? He’s an unusual choice for a bodyguard.”

“He’s...we have an agreement,” she said finally, not wanting to go into the details. “He had connections here.”

“So Arla doesn’t know.”

She shook her head.

“ _Haar’chak_.” Rau folded his arms over his chest. “What does the First Order want with a little boy?”

“It’s...complicated.” She clasped her hands together. “Sabine called on you for help. I’m begging you to help us now.”

“Cut me open and tear my guts out, why don’t you.” He heaved a sigh. “What do you want me to do?”

“I need residency so we can stay here.”

“I don’t have any say over that. I’m your sponsor, and I’ll speak on your behalf. But that decision is made in Sundari.”

“Then don’t tell anyone who I am. _Anyone_.”

“That I can do.”

Relief washed over her, and she grabbed his hand. “Thank you.”

He squeezed her fingers reassuringly, and the lines that bracketed his eyes softened. “We have a saying here. _Cin vhetin_. The past is gone, what matters is what you do now.” His hand dropped and he jerked his head toward the speeder. “We should get those crates. Don’t want Arla to get suspicious.”

When they returned to the house, Arla certainly did not look suspicious. Fett was explaining to Ben how the dart shooter on the wrist gauntlets worked, and Arla was watching with an expression remarkably close to a smile.

“He looks so much like Jango,” Rau muttered. “Of course, he _would_. But it still...it really brings it all back.”

Leia thought about what Arla had said before, about her family. What did she feel when she looked at the bounty hunter, the exact clone of her dead brother? She felt a sharp pang of longing for her own brother, who was lost to her in a different way. Was he also in hiding? Could he have been captured?

_Luke…_

There was no answer.

She gathered up the blankets and made the low beds, then unpacked the food in the kitchen. There wasn’t much that was already prepared. Raw proteins. Root vegetables. Some canned goods and a loaf of bread.

“I’m heading out,” Arla told her, tapping her knuckles on the kitchen counter. “Time to let you get settled.”

“You’re not staying?”

“No. I think I’ll head down to the cantina to see if I can find a nice Concordian girl to share her bed with me.” Arla cast a look at Fenn Rau. “What about you, Rau? Got any sisters?”

“Four, but none of them live here.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Remember that you’re a guest here. Don’t cause any trouble.”

She sighed. “Give me a ride then, will you?”

They had bread for dinner and canned plums. Fett found a small set of tools with the armor and began tinkering with the blue helmet at the table while Leia tucked Ben into bed. Her son gathered his wooden sword up from the floor and hugged it to his side. “‘Night, Mom.”

“Do you want…” She pulled Han’s dice out from her shirt.

“Okay.” He unwound two fingers from the leather-wrapped hilt and extended them, indicating that she should tuck the dice there.

He really loved that _kriffing_ sword.

She kissed the top of his head and shut his door. Fett was still at the table. It looked to her like he was stripping the comm systems out of his new helmet. She went to one of the crates they’d brought from Sundari and took out the bottle of _tihaar_. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” he answered immediately, then seemed to rethink that answer. “Needs a few adjustments.”

She offered the bottle to him, but he shook his head. Leia took a quick nip. Plums. She recognized the flavor beneath the burning alcohol now.

“That thing with the blaster.” He didn’t look up from his work. “My fault. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You were thinking about the safety check. So was I.” She took another drink. “It wouldn’t have mattered. Fenn recognized me.”

His head came up. “And?”

“He swore he would keep silent.”

“He probably will.” He returned to his task.

Leia watched him work while the alcohol seeped into her bloodstream. They were here. Concordia. Much like gaining entry on Mandalore, all of her victories felt short-lived. There was still so much to do. She put down the _tihaar_ and picked up the bottle of oil.

“If I could have-” She set the bottle down on the table in front of him “-a few minutes of your time.”

His gaze shifted to the bottle and then to her. “Sure.” He stood and followed her into the bedroom. He seemed distracted, or maybe he was tired. The gods knew she was tired, but they couldn’t afford to waste a single chance.

She laid back on their new bed and applied oil and her fingers until she could comfortably take him. Fett barely said a word, he did his part and finished quickly. While she was laying there with her hips tilted up he went to the ‘fresher and then she heard the chair scrape the floor as he pulled it up to the table again.

_We’re here. We made it._

Another bed, another house, another town where her objectives were to stay hidden and hide everything from Ben. Oh, and get pregnant with a man she barely knew.

_This had better work._


	9. Plots and Plans

As Rau described it, his new job consisted of walking the perimeter of the base, watching ships come and go from the hanger bay and keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.

And that was it.

Because Boba was the newest guard, he’d drawn the worst shift, which was eleven standard hours from mid-morning to late night. That meant he’d be eating two meals at the commissary, which was generally considered to have terrible food. It was also one of the quietest shifts, with the least chance of action. None of that was particularly appealing, but Boba’s greatest irritation  was that it didn’t come with authorization to the main database. Only the interior guards had those codes.

It was frustrating to be so close. But his success, not to mention his deal with Organa hinged on completing the task undetected, so he would have to be more subtle. Maybe get friendly with the guards who worked the interior positions. Try to switch shifts.

Since there were only a few hours before starting his first shift, he had to finish what he’d started last night and make his old helmet look like the one Rau had given him. He’d swapped out the commlink and the ID core. That left the exterior. Lucky for him, Rau’s tool kit included some color capsules and a spray gun.

Organa decided to walk into town early to purchase a few supplies and ask about the school. Ben was still sleeping when she left, but it wasn’t lost on Boba that this was the first time she’d left him alone with the boy. It might not be a test. But then again, it might. Maybe she wanted to see if he could handle the basics before she agreed to hand him a baby.

“Make sure he eats something,” were her only instructions. As long as he kept the boy happy and didn’t lose him in the woods, he was probably safe. And losing him didn’t seem likely, since Ben was immediately fascinated with the spray gun.

“What are you doing?” He asked as he approached the table.

“Painting my helmet so it matches my armor.”

“I thought you had a new one.”

“I like this one better.” He loaded a new paint cartridge into the sprayer and offered it to the boy. “You want to help?”

“Yeah!”

Come here.”Boba made a space for Ben between his knees, putting his arms  around him and wrapping Ben’s small hands around the sprayer. “Don’t tense, it’ll throw your aim. Deep breath. Think about where you want the paint to go.”

He let go, and Ben pressed the trigger. Blue paint streaked down the dome, covering the scratched and faded green. “Stop before you get to the rim. It takes it a second to-”

“Oops.”

“...Maybe we should take this outside.”

When Organa returned they were sitting on the front step putting the finishing touches on it. “It doesn’t look exactly like the new one,” was Ben’s assessment. “But it’s close!”

“It looks very nice. Did you eat breakfast?”

“No.”

_Fierfek_. He’d forgotten that part. “We were busy.”

Ben puffed out his chest. “I did all of the blue parts.”

“I can see that. You have blue paint all over you.”

Boba looked over at the boy and they were clearly having the same thought. She hadn’t even seen the table yet. “How are the shops?” He asked as he followed her into the house.

“There are two stores, Makin’s and Ghee’s. Both of them carry roughly the same thing.” She set her bag on the table, right beside the half-moon of blue paint. “Hm.”

“My hand slipped.”

“No it didn’t.” She looked over at her son. “I also met the education director. You can start school tomorrow.”

“Do I have to?”

“Not tomorrow, but eventually. You can even bring your sword. Fenn Rau teaches the old style of Mandalorian sword fighting during the physical activity period.”

“I’ll go tomorrow.”

“I thought you might. Have you done your lessons?”

“No. I’ll do them now.” Ben looked over at Boba. “You can’t lie to her,” he said ominously before he vanished into his room. “She always knows.”

“You didn’t eat anything yet,” she called after him, but his door shut. Her lips pressed together in a thin line.

“He’ll eat when he’s hungry, won’t he?”

Organa gave him a quick, irritated look. “Two hours alone with him and now you know everything?”

If this was a test, it wasn’t going well. “I’ll be home late tonight.”

“I’ll wait up.”

She didn’t seem as pleased as he thought she would be with their progress. Maybe she was worried that Rau wouldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Boba wondered what his level of obligation was there. Technically their deal encompassed anything that would help her gain residency and the protection of Mandalore, and that might also include eliminating any threats to that end. But would she actually ask him to kill someone for it? Or would she just be grateful if he did?

He didn’t like working on assumptions.

It felt good to suit up again, even if it wasn’t his armor. He reported to the base, and was briefed on all the comings and goings. The major concern seemed to be an increase in pirates and smugglers trying to sneak in under the cover of night to steal cargo and supplies.

No one mentioned what Boba already knew, that not one of the supposed pirates had made it out alive. If there was any suspicion they might have been after something specific, it wasn’t part of the briefing.  

By the time he clocked out he had at least some idea of what his next move might be. He returned to the house and found Organa reading in bed.

“How was work?” She asked, stifling a yawn.

“It’s a security job. Lots of walking around, not much to see.” He began to remove his armor, stacking it on the floor along the wall. “At the end of the week all of the base security and their families go the cantina for a social gathering. We’re invited.”

“We should go.” She reached for the bottle of oil as he stripped off the remainder of his clothing. “I filled out all of the sections that I could on the residency application."

“I’ll do my part in the morning.” She passed him the bottle and he stroked his cock until it was hard and slick, his pulse rising in anticipation as her hand moved between her legs. Pleasure was not the purpose of this, but during the monotony of his shift he found himself looking forward to it. She removed her hand and he took its place, pressing into the yielding warmth of her body as she closed her eyes.

So she didn’t want to look at him. It still felt _fekking_ great to thrust into her, the slickness of the oil easing the way until he could really work up a rhythm. Maybe it was distraction or fatigue from the day, but he needed to drive a little harder, work a little more. The memory of the first time he’d thrust into her rose up in his mind. The soft noise she made. The way her hips had rolled into his.

Maybe it was a fight that he wanted. Something to keep his attention immediate and focused. He thought about the lithe strength of the body beneath his, imagined her twisting and bucking, breaking his rhythm. Not because she was afraid of him, it wasn’t that kind of fantasy. It was a matter of working for it. Being good enough. A little competition. Wrestling her into position, his hands on her soft skin, holding, grasping, touching all of the places that weren’t necessary for him to touch.

“Ah.” The soft gasp broke through his thoughts, dragging his attention back to reality. Her eyes were open, her lips parted.

“ _Fek_. Too rough?”

“No.” She turned her head to one side, her cheeks flushed. “I’m fine.”

“Should I stop?”

“No. Keep going.” She squirmed, changing the friction just a little. Her breathing was a little rougher, her chest rising and falling beneath her sleepshirt. He could see the peaks of her nipples through the fabric.

He remembered what her breasts looked like. The shape of them, the curve of the underside and the fullness of the tips. They looked like they would be very nice to kiss, even through her shirt. Nuzzling into that curve, nipping at the peaks. Her shirt might even get wet, and cling to her skin.

But that wasn’t _necessary_ , and might be unwanted as well.

He didn’t like to work on assumption.

Just thinking about her breasts put him close enough to the edge, and his body gave in even though his mind had slipped out of focus. He pressed into her until it was over and then moved out of her way so she could bring her knees up to her chest.

The position seemed to be intended to give his sperm a little gravitational assistance, but it always looked defensive to him. As if Organa was curling into a shell like a Nautolan sea crab. He sat up and swung his feet over the side of the low bed. “I’m still a little keyed up from work. Might as well start working on that application.”

“Good idea.” Her eyes were half shut, her tone tranquil.

Boba went to the ‘fresher to wash up and put on his sleeping pants before he grabbed his helmet from the kitchen and slipped outside. It took a few minutes to set up the encryption, but the signal was steady and unlike Sundari, not likely to be picked up by a passing commlink. “Captain Rite.”

She sounded out of breath. “Are you calling for retrieval?”

“I said it would take time.”

There was a long pause. “Admiral Rax is going to be very unhappy to hear that.”

“Give me the word and I’ll do it tomorrow. Set an explosive charge. A dozen or so casualties. You’ll have the file in your database before the sun sets.”

“Your instructions were explicit. We cannot provoke Mandalore while negotiations are in process. It must be done quietly and cleanly.”

“Which. Takes. _Time_.”

There was a long sigh from the captain. “You’re certain you can access the Kamino files from your location?”

“ _Bral’ruus_ has the same databank as every other base. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I can’t tell you how imperative your speed is.”

“That bad? Kuat’s a pretty nice get.”

“It is. Admiral Hux gets full credit for that.”

“Is he the one talking to Korkie Kryze?”

Silence. Then, “I can’t discuss that.”

“He approached me in Sundari. So _discuss_ that with someone. I don’t need him blundering into my operation.”

“I’ll do what I can,” she said carefully.

“Is this still the best proxy line?”

“Yes. If anyone breaches our encryption I’ll send you the new line ID. As always, the First Order thanks you for your service.”

“Thank me when I’m done. With _credits_. Fett out.”


	10. Break Open

Life settled into a quiet routine in _Bral’ruus_. Their residency application was submitted and Ben started school. Every day Leia tried to figure out how to work the ancient appliances and every night she did her damnedest to become pregnant. Fett said very little about his job, and Ben gave mostly one-word answers to her questions about school. It made her a little starved for conversation, not to mention news.

The comm channels in this remote location were less reliable then in Sundari, and most of the transmissions were centered on local activity. By the time the shift week ended and the security personnel gathered at the cantina, Leia was genuinely looking forward to it.

It was, in every sense of the word, a family gathering. The children were given free run of the outdoor seating area and Ben was quickly pulled into a rousing game of tag. The adults were left to gather in knots around tables or, if they tired of being jostled by passing children, along the cantina wall.

Leia met a few of Fett’s co-workers and spouses, answered the usual questions, and accepted a large mug of ale. It was half empty before she spotted Fenn Rau. His back was to her, he was engaged in conversation with a handsome dark-haired man in yellow armor.

The man in yellow saw her coming, took a minute to decide that they hadn’t met, and gave her a small, flirtatious smile. The gesture was so unexpected, her steps nearly faltered. But she kept moving, and Fenn turned, responding to something his companion said. The moment he saw her he flinched and cast a worried look at the man in yellow. That wasn't a good sign, but it was too late to change direction.

“Fenn,” she said with a bright, artificial smile. “How nice to see you.”

“Ah. Yes. Nice to see you too. Allennia Joldo, meet Tristan Wren.”

The man who must be Sabine’s brother offered her his hand. He had the same eyes as his sister, the same assured warmth. “You must be new to _Bral’ruus_.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” She tried to overcome her fluster. “I’m sorry, do you live-”

“Oh, no. I’m on Krownest. But I always like to accompany our shipments, so I’m here quite often.” He was still holding her hand. They both realized it at the same time and broke contact abruptly.

Fenn cleared his throat. “That would be her husband over there. Boba Fett. And there’s Ben too, running around here somewhere with the other kids.”

“That’s Boba Fett?” Tristan looked over at the bounty hunter, clad in his blue armor and listening to something that one of the other guards was saying.

“That’s him. Allennia’s husband,” Fenn repeated, as if he wasn’t sure that Tristan had heard him the first time.

Tristan’s eyes returned to Leia with new interest, one that was not based on attraction. “And how do _you_ feel about a First Order delegation coming to Sundari?”

For a second Leia couldn’t breathe, let alone answer.

“That’s not certain,” Fenn rushed to add. “It’s a possibility, that’s all. The _Mand’alor_ hasn’t said-”

“I don’t see any reason Mandalore should treat with them,” Leia said, surprising herself with the steadiness of her tone. “They caused all of this. They created the Scourge. The First Order has proven that they can’t be trusted.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Tristan said with clear approval. “And yet, there are people who say what they did is no different than what the Republic did with the creation of the clone army.”

“I trained those clones,” Fenn said sharply. “They weren’t madmen. They were allowed to grow, to form bonds and learn skills beyond warfare. Being a human is more than just what your DNA makes you.”

Leia felt a gloved hand touch her back and she glanced back at Fett as he wrapped a possessive arm around her waist and set his chin on the top of her head. “Been meaning to ask you, Rau, what’s the latest from the capital? Are they still bringing in refugees from that one transport, what was it...the _Moonlight_?”

“Not that I know of. I should head back to the base,” the older man said shortly. “Enjoy your leisure time, Boba. Tristan, I’ll walk you back to your ship.”

“It was a pleasure,” Tristan said to Leia before he followed Fenn.

“Something wrong?” Fett questioned in a low voice, his words muffled in her hair. “You looked tense.”

“It’s probably nothing. Rumors and gossip.” She put her hand over his where it rested on her waist. “Thank you.” She said, and she meant it.

He gave her a light squeeze, his tone a little teasing. “Clan Wren wouldn’t be a bad choice for your next husband.”

Leia turned and gave him a look of mild exasperation. “That is  _not_ what that was.”

“He’s very attractive and he likes you.”

“Keep this up and I’ll think you’re jealous.” She pulled away from him and he let her go. “Have you seen Ben recently?”

“He’s over there, by those rocks.” A number of children peered intently at the ground, and then startled back all at once. Ben was clutching an empty ale mug and extended it carefully, his eyes on the tall grass at the base of the rock. “Looks like they found something they want to catch.”

As much as she wanted to ask what, and how poisonous it might be, Leia forced herself to take a breath and a sip of ale. The children with Ben were natives and some were older. They would know if a bug or snake was dangerous. “He’ll be good and tired tonight.”

“Think he’ll sleep in his own bed?”

The night before, Leia had gone outside to sit on the front step after she had put Ben to bed. The nighttime chorus of birds and creatures in the woods around them was soothing, in a way. It made her feel less alone. When Fett returned from work, she followed him inside only to discover that Ben had gotten up and fallen asleep again in her bed, something he usually only did if he had a bad dream.

“Don’t wake him,” Fett told her. “I’ll switch with him for tonight.”

She really did appreciate how considerate he was of Ben. Her son was growing more and more comfortable with his presence, almost to the point where there seemed to be a subtle alliance between them. One that did not include her. Leia appreciated that much less.

Ben’s takeover of the big bedroom also meant that they had to come up with a more creative way to have sex, and sans oil. After a somewhat lengthy negotiation about where and how, Leia bent over the table to test the height and was trapped there almost immediately by Fett standing behind her. The hard ridges of his armor pressed into her backside and she heard the hitch in his breathing. “Should work,” he said, as if it was some kind of very important discovery.

She didn’t begrudge him a little excitement. After all, their success depended on his ability to become aroused, but it also made her envious. She wished, as she worked herself open with spit-wet fingers, that she could feel desire that easily. That she could accept, uncritically, whatever pleasure their efforts gave her.

And while she was wishing, she would also appreciate a nice warm, wet tongue lapping up between her folds and teasing her sensitive nub. If she asked Fett to go down on her first, would he? Or would that be crossing a line, venturing outside of the parameters of their deal?

It was simpler like this.

They went home after the cantina, and Ben washed up and went to his own bed without any resistance. They had sex the usual way in their bed and went to sleep. The next day was Fett’s day off but Ben’s school had a different schedule, so she got up with him in the morning and saw him off.

The bounty hunter ate a quick breakfast and then told her he was going to take a walk, explore the surrounding woods a little. Leia noticed he took his helmet with him, but no other armor. She spent most of her morning trying to translate the cooking times on the ancient stove. Her stomach and palate were rebelling against canned goods. With an education befitting royalty a simple recipe for stew shouldn’t be beyond her capabilities.  

Fett returned midday, showered and read some briefing reports from the base while she washed clothing. It was all so _kriffing_ domestic. But the tranquility was disrupted by Ben coming home from school. He walked in the door, slung his sword in the corner and gave them both a look that could only be described as venomous.

“Ben? Is something wrong?” Leia moved towards him, but her son bolted for his room and shut the door.

“I hate school,” he yelled through the barrier. “I’m never going back.”

Something must have happened. Kids had fights, feelings were hurt, it was probably nothing. She returned to the oven, staring down at the empty pot. The temperature guide and the oven markings were in two different dialects. “Do you have any idea what this says?” She asked Fett, who set his datapad down on the table and seemed to notice the tablecloth for the first time.

“This is new.”

“It hides the blue paint,” she answered a little snidely. “Now can you come over and read this for me?”

“I don’t know that one,” he said without getting up. His fingers brushed over the cloth as if testing the surface in some way. He looked back over at her, and Leia thought he was going to ask her a question, but he seemed to change his mind. He picked up his datapad again.

Her teeth ground together as she looked down at the pot again. Well, it was stew, not a technical advisory committee. As long as the pot got hot whatever was inside of it would cook eventually. She dumped the ingredients in, raw chunks of meat and dense root vegetables. She poured water over it, added salt and set the lid on.

It did smell nice as it cooked. She knocked on Ben’s door again, but her son was still unwilling to talk. She left Fett to mind the stew and went down to the shops to buy some rolls to go with it. By the time she got back, Ben’s door was open, but he was absorbed in a book. “Dinner,” she told him on her way to the oven. The pot was _hot_. Leia wrapped a towel around the handles and carried it quickly to the table.

“I don’t like this bread,” Ben grumbled. “It’s hard.”

“It’s not that hard. Try it.”

He picked up a roll and hurled it across the room. It bounced off the wall without breaking and rolled back towards the table. “ _See_?”

“Ben! Go pick that up!”

“No!”

Fett reached down and rescued the roll from the floor. “If you won’t eat it, I will.” He broke it half and took a bite, which only incensed her son. Ben grabbed the other half of the roll and threw it again.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” He shouted. “You’re not my dad! I don’t care what Marva Turek says!”

Leia set the pot down on the table too quickly. It made a heavy _thunk_ , and the sound seemed to echo the silence. “Ben,” she said. “Who is Marva Turek?”

“She’s in my class. She says Fett’s my dad now and I have to call him _buir_.”

Oh no.

“Marva Turek is wrong,” Fett told him. “ _Buir_ can be mom or dad, but it just means an adult who takes care of you. I’m not your dad, but a Mandalorian would say I’m your _buir_. You can call me whatever you want.”

Ben’s brows were still lowered in anger. “Something smells weird.”

“I think the tablecloth is burning,” Fett said in the same even tone.

“Oh for-” Leia snatched the pot back up, and sure enough, there was now a black ring on the cloth. “ _Kriffing_ hell.”

“That’s a swear word,” Ben noted. “You told me we don’t use those words.”

“We don’t,” Leia snapped, dragging the hot pan back to the stove.

Her son turned his attention back to Fett. “Do you use swear words?”

“Sometimes. Most of the ones I know are Huttese.”

“Like what?”

“ _Ben_ ,” Leia said warningly.

“ _Fierfek_. It means poison, but the worst kind of poison. The kind that kills you slowly and painfully.”

“Fire-fek?”

“Almost. _Fierfekkkh_. Say it like it tastes bad.”

“ _Fierfek_.”

“Good. Now go pick up the bread.”

Ben hopped off his chair and retrieved the roll half. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he put it back in front of Fett. Leia stared at him, suddenly so angry she didn’t think she could trust herself to speak. She turned away from the stove and walked out the door into the cool evening air. She felt like screaming every swear word she knew, an extensive and multi-cultural collection that used to make Han laugh every time she slipped and said one.

She struck out blindly into the woods, soft fir branches brushing her head and pulling at her clothes. She didn’t stop moving until she came to a stand of rocks in a small clearing. She sat on the nearest moss-covered stone and tilted her head up toward the twilight sky.

“I never asked for this,” she hissed at the emerging stars. As if she could blame them. As if this was their fault. “Wasn’t it enough? Didn’t I lose _enough_?”

Ben was all she had left. She’d given up everything for him. And no matter how hard she tried or what she sacrificed, she was the one putting him at risk. Her blood. Her legacy. If she left tonight, snuck aboard some cargo freighter and struck out to find other resistance fighters, wouldn’t he be better off? Fett might adopt him, or even Arla.

He would grow up hating her. But he might hate her anyway, once he was old enough to understand how much she hated what she was reduced to here. What would he think about a mother who saw his best hope for home and safety as a prison cell?

The chill of the night air and dampness of the moss began to seep through her clothing, but she folded her arms tightly around herself and didn’t move. Her hurt and her anguish held her like a fist, blocking out every thought except for one. _Luke…_

**Leia.**

His presence rippled through her like a shock wave. _LUKE._

**Leia…**

Where was he? She reached out, tried to see him. She saw snow falling, and a frozen lake. That didn’t help, but her own surroundings probably didn’t give him much of a clue either. _Luke. Where are you? How can I find you?_

**You’ve always been strong.**

Falling snow, slowly fading into gray...a building, stark and sharp-edged. Another base or stronghold? It was melting away, faster than she could grasp it. _Luke. No, don’t…_

**Stay strong, Leia.**

_I NEED YOU._

**I’ll find you.**

He was close. She could feel it. Maybe here on Concordia or on another moon in this system. She needed a terramap, a star chart, something to figure out where he might be. The base would have all of that and more, but Allennia Joldo had no reason to to be searching the terramaps for nearby planets. Fett might be able to come up with an excuse in his capacity as a guard, but could she trust him with Luke’s whereabouts?

What about a system-wide post? Something slightly more subtle than “wanted, one blonde Jedi master,” but something Luke would see and recognize.

It hit her then. What if she offered a reward for information about Leia Organa? Luke might be watching the bounty postings, and she could make the contact ID the transmission center at one of the shops where people often picked up messages. If Luke was searching for her in this system and thought someone else was, he might feel compelled to find out who.

She started towards town, following the lights through the trees. Ghee’s shop was run by an older woman of the same name, who commented on her lack of cloak and then offered to sell her one. When Leia demurred, she plugged in the transmission line and left her to it.

By the time she returned to the house, she was half-frozen, but stirred by a new sense of determination. Luke was out there. Luke was looking for her. She had to stay here so he could find her, and she had to settle things with Fett.

The bounty hunter was sitting at the table when she came in, wearing his sleeping pants and working on his armor. He didn’t look up. “Where were you?”

“Where’s Ben?”

“In bed.”

She looked at the time. “Oh. Good.”

“He was worried about you.” He raised his head. His jaw was tight, his gaze steady. “Where did you go?”

“The woods. You think you’re the only one allowed to go for a walk?” Warmth was beginning to return to her fingers and cheeks. She wanted a fight. She was ready for it.

He stood and moved closer to her, his voice quiet and menacing. “You went into the woods without a coat? Without a blaster?”

“That’s what I said.” She stared him down without flinching. “And by the way, I don’t need _your_ help raising _my_ son. Our deal has nothing to do with him. From now on, you let me handle the questions.”

“He understands more than you think he does.”

“He’s a _child_. And I’m his _mother_. I will-where do you think you’re going?” She demanded as he brushed past her and moved towards his coat hanging near the door.

“Maybe I’ll take a walk,” he said with a childish sneer. “Don’t wait up.”

Anger surged through her. She could feel the cold, dark fingers of it reaching out towards him, itching to yank him back. To bring him to his knees.

“We can’t afford to waste a night.”

That stopped him. Fett turned and stalked back towards her, his eyes dark. Unwilling to look away or step back, she held her ground and he stopped only when he had to. “Do you _really_ want to have sex right now?”

She tilted her head back and lifted her chin. “What I want is for you to knock me up so we can _stop_.”

“I’ve done _my_ part,” he snarled as he strode into the bedroom. “Every _karking_ time.”

Leia kicked off her shoes and followed him, her pulse racing as she stripped off her tunic. Her skin was flushed and prickly as the chill of the outdoors faded. “Oh, you _poor_ thing. Such a hardship, having an orgasm every night.”

He dropped his pants to the floor and sat down on the bed with a huff. “Because I work for it,” he returned darkly. “All you do is lay there like a corpse.”

“A cor-” She couldn’t even finish the word. “You think that’s easy?” She demanded as she shoved her own pants down and swiftly got rid of her undergarments. “Do you think _any of this_ is easy for me?”

Leia grabbed the oil off the table beside the bed and dropped down onto his lap, straddling his thighs. One stiff-armed push forced him back on his elbows as she pulled the stopper out of the bottle with her teeth and tipped some oil onto her hand.

His entire body jerked when she wrapped slick fingers around his cock and he immediately pushed up into her grip with a groan. Her touch was relentless, sliding up and down his shaft, holding him tight as he shuddered beneath her. He was so damn responsive, it fed the heat and the hunger spreading rapidly through her. She moved up, squeezing his cock between her thighs and then taking him inside. She needed no preparation. She wanted every inch of him, stretching her open, filling her up.

“ _Fek_.” His hands found her hips, his fingers digging almost painfully into her flesh.

“Oh, no you don’t.” She seized his wrists and lunged forward, pinning them to the bed beside his head. “This time _you_ just lay there.” He made a half-hearted attempt to free his arms, but she had leverage on her side and his attention was severely compromised every time she moved her hips.

The temporary power she held made her even hotter, and in a moment of impulse she leaned down and captured his mouth in an aggressive kiss. He arched up, and with some effort, freed his hands. His fingers twined almost savagely in her hair as lips parted and tongues came out to play. One kiss melted into another, and even with this new diversion she never stopped moving, riding him as hard and fast as she could.

She hadn’t realized how much she needed this, how much she wanted to fuck until she couldn’t see straight. His hands returned to her hips and she pulled herself upright, her nails digging into his forearms as Fett braced his feet on the floor beside the low bed and took control of the pace.

His determined thrusts practically lifted her off the bed even as his hands tightened on her hips, holding her steady. Gods, he was strong. Leia hung on, lost in the primal pleasure of heat and rhythm, letting her hips roll with him until he came with a growl. He let go of her and she fell to the bed, so achingly close that it took only two strokes with her fingers to bring her own climax.

It tore through her like an earthquake, like a revelation. Like the cry of pure relief that escaped her lips. She felt, for the first time in a long time, like herself. And somewhere on the other side of that bliss she found herself beside Fett, her arm draped over his heaving chest, his heartbeat throbbing against her palm. “ _Fierfek_ ,” she breathed, and he gave a short, rasping laugh in response. Leia closed her eyes, savoring the sweet ebb of pleasure as her pulse slowed and a wave of drowsiness followed. His body was so warm next to hers, the sound of his breathing so soothing. Maybe they could lay here for a just a little longer. Just a few minutes more...


	11. Re-calibration

She fell asleep in his arms. That simple, immutable fact kept Boba awake long after she started snoring softly.

Beyond that, he couldn’t say what was the most surprising. There were too many moments, too many revelations vying for the top position. The hunger in her eyes when she touched him. The way she kissed him as if she wanted to own him, body and soul. The way her mouth fell open when she orgasmed and finally the way she curled up against his side, warm and content and fell asleep.

_Fierfek_ didn’t go far enough. There wasn’t a curseword in the galaxy strong enough to describe it.

He realized now that what they’d been doing was only a pale imitation. This was _sex_ the way people described it, the way they longed for it and made _fekking_ stupid mistakes because of it.

It wasn’t until she stirred and rolled over, hunting sleepily for her pillow, that he relaxed enough to fall asleep.

In the morning the bed still smelled like sex and oil. Leia had tidied up the room before she left. She had gathered up their scattered clothes and left his sleeping pants folded neatly at his feet. He put them on and followed the smell of toasting bread to the kitchen.

Ben was sitting at the table, eating his toast with fruit preserves. He looked at Boba and then looked at his mother, chewing noisily. Leia put a piece of toast on a plate and handed it to him without meeting his eyes. It was awkward. Why was it awkward?

He sat down at the table and reached for the preserves. Ben picked up his own plate and moved one chair over to sit next to him. “Today’s my off day,” he announced with his mouth half-full. “Can you stay too?”

“I have to work. But not right away.” He glanced over at Leia again, but she was fixing her own toast, her eyes on her task.

At least Ben seemed settled and content, compared the night before. While Leia was gone, her son had stood by the window watching for her, his fists clenching and unclenching. Not knowing what to say or how to reassure him, Boba tried to keep him distracted by letting him play with a spare targeting scope.

“I like swords better than blasters,” Ben said at one point. “My _shaapkad_ is okay, but someday I want a real lightsaber like Uncle Luke has.”

According to the galactic bounty postings, Luke Skywalker’s current status was unknown. No one could confirm if the Jedi was alive or dead.

When he clocked in at the base, several of the other guards said it was nice to have met his family. “That’s a fine boy you’ve got,” the base commander Luna Turek told him.

“Yup. He is.”

“Your wife wasn’t what I expected,” another one of the guards said in a playful way. “She talks like she went one of those schools that has a coat of arms on everything.”

“She probably did.”

“ _Haar’chak_. She must hate it here.”

“She’s educated. Not soft.” He thought about her hands on his arms. Soft, yes, but strong. Her nails left marks on his skin, and it wasn’t accidental.

“Fett.” Brevar, one of other rotation guards waved a datapad at him. “We’re signing up to cover Kenk’s shift so he can go offworld to see his husband. You in?”

Kenk was an interior guard. One with access to the database. “Sure.” Boba took the datapad from him, but Commander Turek grimaced and shook her head.

“You’re not trained for that. Interior monitors are supposed to have level four clearances, and you can’t get that without legal residency.”

“Oh c’mon,” Brevar countered. “We had Jruii on the comms almost a year before he was level four cleared.”

“You want to answer to Rau if he finds out?” Turek clearly wasn’t going to take a chance with him. “Get your papers first. I’ll train you myself.”

When his shift ended, he returned to the house. For the first time the lights were off. Leia had gone to bed. Could she be angry with him? He had, after all, compared having sex with her to fucking a corpse. She must be angry with him. It was asolutely _fekking_ ridiculous how shitty that made him feel.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t ridiculous. They were partners in this operation, and petty interpersonal issues could cause serious problems. It was one of the main reasons he usually worked alone. Making things right was the smart thing to do, even if it meant groveling a little.

He undressed and climbed into bed beside her. She was curled up on her side with her back to him, but her breathing stuttered when he leaned over her.

“You’re back,” she mumbled, curling up a little tighter.

“I owe you an apology.”

“For...what?”

“For what I said last night. Comparing you to a corpse. It was rude and insulting and I apologize.”

“Oh.” She pulled herself up on one elbow and looked back over her shoulder at him, blinking sleepily. “Thank you. I accept your apology.”

“And you’re right,” he continued. “I don’t know what it’s like for you. I don’t know how to make it easier, or if you even _karking_ want me to try. But last night…” he spoke carefully, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “It was different. Was it easier?”

Leia rolled over onto her back, her eyes on the ceiling. “Yes. It was easier.”

“I don’t like being held down. But it makes it better for you-”

“Oh. No, if you don’t like it then I won’t do it again.” She turned her head toward him, her expression rueful. “It wasn’t really _that_. It was...the passion of the moment. We’ve never even kissed before.”

His pulse picked up at the thought of her mouth, warm and slick against his. “I liked that.”

“I did too.” She sighed and resumed gazing up at the ceiling. “But I don’t know if I want to do it again. I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

He moved down, laying his head down on his pillow with his body turned towards her. “Is there something else I can do?” His hand slipped the blanket and found the soft skin of her thigh. “Can I touch you?”

Leia put her hand over his, trapping it through the blankets. “Yes, but not tonight.” She gave him a pained smile. “I’m bleeding.”

“You’re-” It took him a second to realize what she meant.

She lifted her hand from his. “We have another cycle. I didn’t really expect us to conceive immediately.”

But she hoped. “You didn’t have this problem with Solo.”

Her brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”

“You had a child with him. I’m…If there’s a problem, odds are, it’s me.”

“I think it’s a little too soon to call it a problem.” She hesitated for a second. “Did you ever have a scare? With a girlfriend or-”

“There were no girlfriends. And no ‘or.’”

“No ‘or?’ That makes it sound like-” She stopped suddenly and pulled herself up on her elbow. “Wait. Please don’t tell me I was your first.”

According to her request, he remained silent.

“No,” she said, visibly distressed. “That was your first time? In Sundari, with the porn and the _tihaar_?”

“You asked me not to say it,” he reminded her.

“Oh _kriffing_ hell.” Her head returned to her pillow with a soft thump.

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know, I would have…” She spread her hands and then let them drop to the blanket. “Can I ask why you waited this long?”

“I was never married.”

Her dark brows arched and her lips formed a perfect, silent “oh.”

“That’s how my dad raised me. Sex is part of the contract of marriage. _Mhi solus tome_. We are one _together_.”

“I didn’t realize that was a...literal translation.”

“It’s a very literal language.”

Her lips pressed together, her expression contemplative. “It just seems so restrictive, especially in a society that places so much value on independence.”

Boba shrugged.

“There must have been women you wanted to have sex with.”

“A few women. And a few men. But no one I wanted to marry.” He shifted, stretching out on his back. “It keeps things simple. In my line of work, the kind of people I deal with...it can be hard to tell if people like you or if they want something from you.”

“Sounds a little like politics.”

“ _Fek_ no. Not nearly as dangerous.” He gave her a quick smirk and was pleased when she smiled back.

“So...when you said Tristan Wren was attractive…”

“Are you asking me if I’d fuck Tristan Wren?”

“Would you?”

He gave her a look of mock sternness. “Only if we were married. Weren’t you paying attention?”

She held up her hands, palms out. A gesture of surrender. “I guess,” she said after a moment of contemplation, “what we’re doing is not really out of the ordinary by Mandalorian standards. We have an agreement to work together, to live together, to sleep together. But what happens when we no longer want to do those things?”

“It there’s no agreement, there’s no marriage.”

“And if that agreement included trying some different things in bed, that wouldn’t necessarily change anything.”

Boba heard what she was saying loud and clear. “I don’t see why it would.”

“Okay.” She exhaled slowly and ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m willing to try it. It was nice. No, that’s not the right word. It was _great_. It felt _great._ ”

She said it so emphatically, as if “great” was less a descriptor and more a statement of purpose. _Great_ was the goal. But great would require practice. Patience. Hands-on training. He watched her hand fall back to the blankets and thought about her strong, slender fingers. Stroking his cock. Spread over his chest. Tight on his arms as she moved with him. _How much blood are we talking about here?_

“Maybe I owe you an apology as well,” Leia continued. “If I pushed you into something you weren’t comfortable with, I’m truly sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“And I appreciate your openness. And your...professionalism.” She smiled at him again. “Good night, Boba.”

“Good night.”

She rolled over and settled onto her pillow with a sigh. Within minutes her shoulders were rising falling steadily.

But once again, Boba was unable to fall asleep.


	12. To Learn

In traditional Alderaani culture, menstruation was supposed to be a time of reflection and rest. A time to remove all other demands from the body and allow the mind opportunity to process thoughts and feelings. Leia had never been particularly good at the custom. She preferred distraction to contemplation, action to meditation. A period was an interruption in her life and all she really felt was impatience until it was over.

Her first period on Concordia was no exception. Her initial frustration over their lack of success was quickly replaced by determination to try again. With a full cycle to work with and a little persistence, surely they could get the timing right. They would have to. It was their last chance to have a medically detectable pregnancy before the deadline.

When she wasn’t brooding over her reproductive cycle, she thought about her brother. Whatever trick allowed her to see his frozen surroundings before wasn’t working now. The weather in their region was slowly turning colder, the nip in the air foretelling the coming of ice and snow.

Where was Luke, if it was already snowing there? A colder region of Concordia? Another moon? A few times she opened her mouth to ask Boba Fett about colder climates and sharp-edged strongholds. Each time she had a carefully planned reason for asking, and each time caution stopped her.

Things were very...comfortable between them right now. She didn’t want to ruin it by making him suspicious. At times she found herself watching the bounty hunter, noticing things she hadn’t noticed before, aware that he was watching her too.

This could work. They could live together and work towards their goals and find pleasure in it. It wouldn’t be any different than the intense but temporary bonds often forged in high-tension intelligence and military operations. It wouldn’t change anything in the end.

Boba Fett was a lot of things, some more surprising than others. Sentimental wasn’t one of them.

When the bleeding finally stopped, she let him know quietly at breakfast that she would “wait up” for him. He gave a spare nod and finished his caf while she hustled Ben out the door for school. When she took her dishes to the sink she saw him stand out of the corner of her eye, but she wasn’t expecting to find him suddenly at her back, crowding her against the sink.

His hands settled on her hips, his touch light. Experimental. “We have time before I leave.”

“I haven’t even showered yet,” Leia retorted, a little sharper than she intended. He left for the base shortly after.

The hours passed and Ben returned from school. He did his homework and they ate dinner. When her son went to bed, she went to her own bed, but not to sleep.

She took her time. There was something luxurious about being able to focus solely on the mounting tension in her body. Over and over again she drew back from the edge, just short of relief.

And then finally, she let go.

She was still panting when she heard the front door open. Feeling completely at ease now, she threw the blankets back and patted the bed when he entered the bedroom.

It was truly amazing how quickly he could get out of his armor.

He settled in beside her, his cold hands breaking through the warm haze. He touched her. Her breasts, her hips, her thighs. She tried to be responsive, tried to show him what she liked and what she didn’t, but her overstimulated body wasn’t cooperating. She felt as cold as his hands and it chafed uncomfortably when he penetrated her with his fingers. “Mmn.” Leia put her hand down between her legs, trying in vain to bring back her earlier arousal. “ _Kriffing_ hell. Get the oil.”

“Something wrong?”

“No, not really. I’m just...I don’t know. We should still finish.” It was too easy to fall back into the rhythm of perfunctory sex. It wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t great. It didn’t feel like it had before, and she wasn’t sure how to fix it. She wasn’t used to being the experienced one.

And apparently she was a failure as a teacher.

The following night Boba returned with a small box. “Got you something,” he announced, dropping it on the bed.

“That’s so…” She picked it up and looked inside. Her first thought was that it was some kind of primitive necklace, but the soft leather straps were placed very oddly for jewelry. They connected to a broader leather piece that had a flat metal disk embedded in it. “What is it?”

The bounty hunter held up a small round remote and pushed a single button in the middle. The disk vibrated suddenly against her fingers and she almost dropped it. “What the _hell_?”

“Something to help.” He tossed her the remote and began to remove his armor.

It hit her then. Heat flooded her cheeks as she gaped at the bit of leather and metal in her hands. “Oh gods.” She touched the button on the remote, and the disk began to vibrate again. “Where...where did you find this?”

“Ghee’s shop.”

Her hands dropped down to the blankets. “You did _not_ walk into there and ask her for a vibrator.”

“You’re wrong. I did.” He said it matter-of-factly.

“You have no shame,” she remarked, turning the gift over in her hands. “I think I like that about you.”

“Yeah?” He looked back over his shoulder at her and then returned his attention to his armored bracers, smiling just a little.

He was so pleased with himself. Leia tucked the vibrator back in the box, feeling slightly more optimistic. “Could we...try this tomorrow? Maybe take a break tonight?”

“Sure.”

“It’s a very thoughtful gift,” she said, feeling that positive reinforcement was in order. “You’re...a good husband.”

“That’s what Ghee said.” He stacked the last of his armor and went to the ‘fresher.

Leia was sure she was never going to be able to look the older woman in the eye again, or for that matter, anyone else. In a town this small, there wasn’t much of an expectation of privacy, and as her fluency in _Mando’a_ increased, she understood more of the connections in her neighbor’s lives. Half the town was related, and many had lived there since the Death Watch days. Most of them could speak Basic, but only did so with her.

Ben was picking up a lot of _Mando’a_ in school, his fluency might soon pass her own. Leia had her own lesson modules that she did on a datapad, often at night while waiting for Boba to return from the base. On this particular night, she made a small modification to her routine.

The soft straps kept the vibrator in place, providing a very pleasant indirect stimulation, warming up her body while her mind was focused on her studies.

When her husband returned and began to remove his armor, he noticed the remote on the bedside table right away. “Are you wearing it?”

“Yes.” She looked up from her datapad, her cheeks hot. “It works. Very well.”

There was a quick flash of teeth from him as he dropped the last of his clothing and burrowed into the covers beside her. “Is that porn?”

“Vocabulary. “ She turned the datapad to show him. “Care to quiz me?”

“ _Ciryc_.”

“Cold. And yes, it is.” She shivered as his cool fingers slipped under the edge of her shirt and traced the soft leather strap at her hip.

“ _Tsikala_?”

“Mm. I don’t know that one.”

“You’re ready?”

“Almost.” She put her hand over his and pushed it further down. His fingertips brushed her pubic hair and then slipped between her folds, easily bypassing the leather strap.

“ _Piryc_ ,” he said with clear relish.

“Wet,” she agreed, squirming against his fingers.

He moved closer, finding a better angle. “ _Nadala_.”

“Nah...hot?”

“ _Jate_.”

“Good...oh.” The movements of his hand displaced the vibrating disc, but she was finding enough stimulation without it.

His finger breached her easily, and he made a noise like a soft growl. “ _Tenn_.”

“Open.” She turned toward him, curling one leg around his muscular thigh. She touched his chest where the scarring made his skin different textures and her mind drifted back to Tatooine, the grit of sand between her teeth. As awful as that time was, if her past self could have known what lay ahead…

No.

She didn’t need that thought. She needed to stay focused on this. The hum of the vibrator and the sweet pressure of fingers inside her. “You...you said _tome_ can mean sex,” she reminded Boba, her fingers trailing down his stomach. “What other words are used?” His muscles tightened under her fingertips as he followed their trajectory with interest.

“Uh...there’s _kad lo dalab_.”

“What does that mean?”

“Sword into sheath.”

“Oh, of _course._ This is your _sword_. I guess that makes me the _dalab_.”

His eyes refocused on her, sharp and dark. “You have _dalab_. You’re not a _dalab_. If you call someone that you’ll have to fight them.”

“It’s an insult?”

“It means…” His brows drew together as he worked out the translation. “...fuckhole?”

She had to laugh at that. “Oh. _Really_. Suddenly we’re talking dirty.”

“ _Kad lo dalab_ , it just means penetration.” He twisted his fingers inside of her and her hips jerked. “Like that. But if you call someone a _dalab_ , you’re accusing them of being loyal to someone because they’re fucking them.”

“As opposed to being loyal to someone because they’re paying you.”

He smirked at her. “Exactly.”

Leia rubbed the flat of her palm teasingly over his cock. “This is very educational. Please, continue.”

He exhaled and pushed into her hand. “ _Muun_.”

“Hard.” She wrapped her fingers around his shaft, and he shuddered. “And yes. You certainly are.” Watching his reactions reminded her of how it felt, what a revelation it was to be touched by someone else. And even though this was still new to him, he matched every stroke of her hand by thrusting his fingers into her.

Competitive. She liked that in a man. She closed her eyes and moved her hips, hunting for friction in just the right spot. There. Oh, gods, _there_.

“ _Gebi_?” He asked, his voice low.

“Yes. I’m close.” The words were nearly strangled by the tightness in her throat. She put her hand back over his, guiding it into the right position. “Mmm. If you can just…” The peak hit, not perfectly, but enough to make her twist and shudder. “Ahhh.” She fumbled with the release on the vibrator’s straps, panting in relief.

His fingers withdrew. “ _Guuror bic_?”

“I like it,” she confirmed. “Now how about you fuck me right the _kriff_ now…”

He moved in, rolling her onto her back. “Can I kiss you first?”

Leia wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think you’ve earned that.”

His hand cupped her jaw, and she could smell the heavy scent of her own arousal on his fingers just before his mouth covered hers. Adrenaline was still pulsing through her veins, her head spinning as the weight of his body settled on top of hers.

Her inner walls spasmed around his cock as he pushed in. His mouth broke from hers just long enough hiss out a curse before he surged back, reclaiming her mouth as he drove all the way to the end.

_Kad lo dalab_.

Leia wrapped her legs around his waist, anchoring her body to his. “Keep doing that,” she managed, in spite of a distinct lack of air in her lungs.

He braced his arms and looked down at her. It was easy to forget how attractive he was until he looked at her with that arrogant gleam in his eyes. “Say it in _Mando’a_.”

She narrowed her eyes. “ _Chakaaryc_.” That one wasn’t in her vocabulary lessons. She’d heard it at the docking bay, spat at some unscrupulous vender with an accompanying hand gesture, which she replicated. Boba gave a short laugh and thrust into her again with enough force to make her toes curl.

“Lucky for you I like a filthy mouth,” he said and kissed her again.

In spite of her recent orgasm, her body was warming and tightening again. She reached up and grasped the pillow above her, her eyes squeezing shut as he fucked her into the mattress. Then suddenly she felt his weight shift to one side, and his hand under her shirt, his thumb brushing one taut nipple. “ _Oh_.” Her hips surged upward. “Yes. Harder.”

“ _Fierfek_ ,” he hissed, leveraging his weight as his pace became relentless. Leia spread her hands over his lower back, urging him deeper as he dropped his head against her shoulder and came with a ragged gasp.

She untangled her legs and tilted her hips up to meet him as he pressed into her, all the way to her cervix. There was sweet, lingering ache that made her think she might be sore tomorrow, but _kriff_ that. She felt wonderful.

His weight lifted as he rolled to one side and for a minute or two they lay there, breathing together. Spent. “ _Jate_?” He asked finally, his voice rough.

Leia turned her head toward him. “Very good. _Surprisingly_ good.”

He didn’t argue. He settled back on his pillow with a heavy sigh and jerked his head, inviting her to come lay with him.

After just a second of hesitation, Leia crawled over and curled up at his side. She didn’t want him to think, after all, that this wasn’t also an important part of properly bedding someone. She laid her cheek down against his shoulder. When she looked up at him, he shifted and his head lowered towards hers. She thought about telling him that kissing time was over now, but before she could really form the words and tone his mouth touched hers. Lightly. With care.

That too, was surprisingly good.

Her pulse skipped.

Oh no.


	13. To Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: There is some consensual reluctance/noncon roleplay in this chapter. If you'd rather skip it, stop reading at “Can you leave the armor on?” and start reading at “I don’t...want to feed your ego too much…” You're not missing any important plot points or anything. :P

Even in Boba’s earliest memories, life on Kamino was highly regimented and driven by routine. There were only a few times he could recall a disruption in that order, and one of them was the Diplomatic Protocol holovid. One of the Kaminoans, a visiting high muckety-muck of some sort, raised the concern that the clones wouldn’t know how to behave properly around the dignitaries they might be expected to guard or escort.

The Mandalorian trainers were nonplussed, seeing no difference between protecting a beggar and protecting a king. But there was enough of a stink to force a response, so Jango found a short training vid that was used to train palace and embassy security. It was in another language, with subtitles in Galactic Basic.

They sat down a hundred ARC troopers for the first viewing, with a question and answer session planned afterwards. It was such an unusual occurrence to have outside media that Jango let Boba attend. He remembered only fragments of it. There was a lot of stock footage showing well-dressed people strolling through sunny gardens.

There were two actors in it. A pretty young woman made up to look like a fancy lady of court, and a handsome young man dressed as a guard. The vid showed the guard walking behind the woman at a respectful distance, crossing by her side to open gates and doors for her, and then finally helping her down from a transport.

“REMEMBER,” the subtitles blared, “IF YOU ARE NOT CERTAIN HOW TO ADDRESS SOMEONE, ASK. IF YOU DO NOT KNOW THE CORRECT WAY TO TOUCH THEM, ASK.”

The young guard looked up at the woman and extended his hand with a charming smile. He spoke and the subtitles gave the translation. “May I take your hand to assist you, my lady?”

“Yes, thank you.” The woman smiled approvingly at him and laid her hand lightly on his.

Boba remembered, even as a child, feeling the sudden charge in the atmosphere. The way about the half the clones in the room sat up a little straighter and fixed their gaze on the holovid with absolute attention.

One of the Mandalorian trainers started coughing loudly, but by then the damage was done. The Diplomatic Protocol was shown twice more, and the third time one of the clones snuck a recording device in. Within a few hours, a jerky, blurry recording of the guard helping the woman down had made its way to every barracks and every shower room.

Boba was too young to see the imagery as erotic, but it still stuck in his mind and surfaced at odd moments, like when he was trying to decide how to ask his wife if he could suck on her nipples.

“I like that,” Leia confirmed, sitting astride his stomach, naked except for the vibrator. She leaned forward, bringing her soft breasts enticingly close. “I think a lot of women do, actually.”

“It’s not too much like nursing?”

“It’s nothing at all like nursing. Human bodies are complex. Don’t overthink it. If there’s something you’re curious about, or want to try, just ask.”

So he did, when his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied and she was flushed pink and panting.

“Oh. _That_.”

“Is this still _kad lo dalab_?” She asked the following night, her fingers pressing into him in a way that made him groan.

“Yup. Your _kad_. My _dalab_.” His back arched off the bed as her touch sent a bolt of white-hot arousal through him. “Do it in the shower...all the time...but _fek_.”

She drew herself up a little and wet her lips with her tongue. “There’s something else I’ve been wanting to do…”

It was a _karking_ miracle that he managed not to beg when she lowered her head. Her tongue alone nearly destroyed him. Then she wrapped her pretty lips around the shaft of his cock and took him fully into her mouth. Her fingers were still inside of him, moving obscenely as she bobbed her head up and down.

It was nothing like porn, or the lethargic motions of the spiced-out slaves servicing clients in the dark corners of Jabba’s palace. Leia sucked his cock like it was her privilege and her pleasure to do so. It was partly a show, but it was a show with meaning. Deliberate intention. An exaggeration of her desire for his pleasure.

The last remaining shards of his concentration were taking notes.

_Fierfek_ , her _tongue_.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her up, hard enough that she winced.

“Ow?”

“Sorry. _Sorry_. But you don’t want me to come there.”

Everything else seemed to be open to discussion. Any position, as long as it ended with him coming inside of her. Any activity, as long as it was arousing to both of them. Day after day he was frustrated by his inability to gain access to the base datafiles and night after night that frustration dissolved the second he touched her.

It wasn’t good for his work.

It was, however, _good_.

The end of the week found them once again outside the cantina with the other base staff, drinking hot spiced cider and picking up bits of news as they gathered around open braziers in the cantina yard. Fenn Rau let the kids in his sword-fighting class put on a brief sparring demonstration with a set of three matches. Ben won two of his three.

“Good job,” Boba told him when he was done and he puffed up his small chest as if he’d just been given a medal.

“Can you fight me?” He asked. “Just for fun?”

“I don’t do swords.” His dad always dismissed swords as toys for show. “Men who run around waving swords are men who overestimate their importance and their skill,” Jango told him once. “Shoot them before they can reach you.”

“I’ll fight you,” Leia offered, but Ben shrank back.

“I don’t wanna fight my _mom_ ,” he said, looking embarrassed. “I want Boba to fight me.”

“I think someone’s afraid to lose to his six-year old,” Commander Turek said to Boba teasingly. “Come on, Fett. Pick up a _shaapkad_ and fight.”

He looked at Leia, but she pursed her lips and shrugged. No help.

“Fine. But I don’t need a sword.” He took a step out into the more open area of the cantina yard, away from the braziers. “Come on,” he gestured to Ben. “Try to hit me.”

Ben looked a little confused, but he raised his wooden training blade and moved forward carefully.

“Go on,” Boba urged. “Try your best. Hit me.”

The boy edged closer, grinning. He was going to try to surprise him with a spinning attack, as he’d done with his classmates. Boba waited until the last second, until Ben had already pivoted sharply to one side. His sword struck the empty air where Boba had been.

“Hey!” He turned swiftly and tried again, and again Boba avoided him.

“Keep coming,” he told Ben. A few shouts of encouragement went up from his classmates as the boy lunged again, and Boba jumped back. Ben didn’t stop this time, didn’t even pause. He was picking up speed and tracking Boba’s movements.

“Go for his feet!” Fenn Rau shouted. Ben feinted and spun into a backstroke, the move drawing applause even though it missed. Boba backed into the space between the rickety wooden tables and pulled a chair out into Ben’s path as he came after him. Without a second of hesitation the boy bounded up onto the chair and launched himself off with a fierce shout.

A rousing cheer went up from the onlookers as Boba was forced back into a table edge. He rolled over the top of it and came down in a crouch as Ben came rushing up on him from the other side. He rolled to avoid the slash of the sword, but Ben wasn’t about to let him get away with the same trick twice. The boy advanced, forcing him onto his back with the point of his wooden blade.

“I got you!” Ben cried in delight, his sweaty curls clinging to his face. He looked over at his mother, and Leia smiled back, but her hands were clenched tightly together. Ben raised the tip of his sword, preparing to tap Boba’s chestplate to signal the end of the sparring match.

“You forgot something,” Boba told him. “Look at your feet.”

He looked down just a second too late. Boba’s foot was already between his and he swept the boy’s legs out from under him easily, tumbling him onto Boba’s chest.

“Hey!” Ben sputtered. “No fair!”

“I don’t fight fair, Ben’ika.” Boba tickled his sides until he dropped his sword and shouted with laughter.

There was a final round of good-natured applause and cheers as he clambered to his feet, Ben clinging to him like a Kowakian monkey-lizard. He set the boy down. “Go get your sword. I need a drink.”

He rejoined Leia by the cantina wall. “I’m out of _karking_ shape.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” She handed him her own half-empty mug of cider, her expression bemused. “You could have let him win.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re an adult. He’s a child.”

Boba snorted and took another swallow of lukewarm cider. “He’ll learn more this way. I’ll never forget the first time I beat my dad in a sparring match.”

Leia arched her brows. “How old were you?”

“Eight.”

“Boba,” she said patiently. “He let you win.”

“No-.” The moment he said it, he realized how ridiculous it sounded. “Oh.”

She didn’t laugh at him, even though she looked like she wanted to. “There’s an empty chair. Sit down and rest.”

“You take it.”

“You just said you were tired.”

He sat and patted his his thigh. “Sit with me.”

“Fine.” She perched on his knees and stretched her hands out towards the fire in the closest brazier. “It’s not a bad thing, that your dad let you win. We learn from failure, but we also learn from success.”

“I’ll let Ben learn that lesson next time.”

Leia’s eyes cut over to her son, and her mouth flattened. “I didn’t realize until now...the way he moves with that sword, the way he fights...he’s only had it a few weeks. He shouldn’t be that good.” She pulled her hands back from the flame and wrapped her arms around her body for warmth. “I don’t like it.”

“So pull him out of the sword class.” He brushed his knuckles over her cold fingers. She needed warmer clothing. Ben probably did too. His wages weren’t much more than subsistence level, but maybe Ghee would let them open a line of credit.

“He loves it.”

“I’ll teach him to use a blaster instead. He’ll like that just as well.”

She gave him a quick look. “You won’t be around forever. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, especially not to Ben.”

Boba hooked his gloved fingers around hers. “I don’t. Make promises I can’t keep.”

Her eyes fixed on his, searching his soul, if he possessed such a thing. Her lips parted to speak and then her gaze abruptly shifted over his shoulder. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

“Fett.” Korkie Kryze gave him a cold smile. “You told me you were married.”

“Hello,” Leia said pointedly. “I’m his wife.”

“ _You’re_ his wife.”

She gave him a withering look in response. “Who the hell are _you_?”

“I’m Korkie Kryze. Bo-Katan’s nephew.”

“I see. And what brings you here?”

“Just checking on a few things.” His pale blue eyes returned to Boba. “I’d like to talk to your husband, if you don’t mind.”

Leia looked at him, a wordless question in her eyes.

He handed her the mug. “Go get a new drink if you want. This won’t take long.”

She nodded stiffly and rose from his lap. Boba stood as well, and Kryze immediately moved in, too close for his comfort.

“I still don’t know what you’re here for, but I have a hunch you were supposed to be done by now.”

“Who told you that?”

“Someone who may resort to _alternate_ measures if you can’t deliver.” The other man’s voice was simmering with anger. “Everything I’ve worked for now hangs on your mysterious mission. Try to imagine how _annoying_ that is.”

Boba returned his gaze in silence, and after a moment the Mand’alor’s nephew turned his attention back to Leia, who stood with her hands on Ben’s shoulders, talking to Commander Turek. “Who is she? Another bounty hunter? Don’t tell me you brought your actual wife and kid along on a heist.”

“I don’t report to you, Kryze.” He didn’t like how much attention the other man was paying to Leia. It wasn’t the way Tristan Wren looked at her. He was _suspicious_.

“Korkie.” Fenn Rau strode over, his arms full of wooden training swords. “You missed the demonstration.”

Kryze took a step back from Boba and smiled wryly at the older man. “I’m sorry, Fenn. Got held up.”

“At least stay and teach my class tomorrow. I’ve got some real fine young fighters who could learn a lot from you.”

“I wish I could. But I have to return to Sundari tonight.”

“Boba just gave them a good lesson in evasion,” Fenn continued, and Kryze turned back toward him.

“Do you usually fight with _bes’kad_ , Fett? It doesn’t seem like your style.”

“It’s not.”

Leia rejoined them, sliding in at Boba’s side and tucking her hand into his. “My husband is nothing if not practical.”

“The weapon needed depends on the task at hand,” Kryze returned. “If your goal is simple destruction, then by all means choose a blaster. A sword requires skill. It’s not clumsy or random. There’s an elegance to them. Their design speaks of a more civilized age.”

“A more civilized age?” Leia repeated in a scornful tone. “I suppose we were more civilized when we were hacking one another to bits with blades until every battlefield was soaked in blood and the aftermath was disease and infection.”

“The best weapon is the one you don’t need to use,” Fenn Rau cut in. “Take the Darksaber for example. Clan Vizsla used it to unite all of Mandalore just as your aunt did. It’s a symbol more than a weapon.”

“But they also _used_ it.” Kryze’s right hand clenched and unclenched as if grasping for an imaginary sword hilt. “It wasn’t just ceremonial, it’s what made Mandalorians a recognized force in the galaxy. We could be out there fixing this damn mess instead of holing up and waiting for it to blow over.”

“And how would you propose to do that?” Leia questioned. “Fix it, I mean.”

“Both sides are weak. We have the opportunity to decide the outcome, and we should take it.”

“And who would you back, if it was your decision?”

“Whoever we can dominate once the Scourge has been put down for good. Both sides have bloody hands and a lack of leadership.”

Leia’s spine stiffened. “They’re not exactly equivalent. The First Order is trying to bring back the Empire, they would occupy and enslave Mandalore just as willingly.”

“And that’s why we have to get to the top first. No more begging for scraps from a distant government. It’s time for Mandalorians to be bold and become conquerors again.”

“That’s not how your aunt sees it,” Fenn noted wryly, “and you’d do well to listen to her.”

“I _always_ listen to her, Rau. You know that.” Kryze nodded at the training swords. “I look forward to meeting your students next time.”

“All right. Give her my regards.”

The Mand’alor’s nephew took a step back and smirked at the older man. “Cody too?”

“If you must.” Fenn grinned back at him. “ _Ret_ , Korkie.”

Kryze’s congenial expression froze slightly as his eyes fell on Leia. “It was very _interesting_ to meet you…?”

“Allennia,” she said, offering her hand.

Instead of shaking it he bowed over it like a courtier. “Allennia.” As he straightened his eyes met Boba’s once more. There was an unspoken threat in them. 

“Are you ready to go?” Leia asked, moving restlessly at his side.

“I’ll get Ben,” he said, but she caught his hand and held it.

“Ben is going to stay at the Turek’s tonight,” she told him. “There’s a partial eclipse and Marva has a starscope.” She said it as if there was something important about this information. Something he was supposed to understand. But he didn’t, not until they returned to the house and Leia launched herself into his arms.

Her mouth was hot and her cheeks were cold. Her throat was something of a middle ground. “Can you leave the armor on?” She asked between kisses, her fingers twining through his short hair.

“Why?”

“I don’t know...all that talk about conquering, dominating...it’s the ultimate fantasy, isn’t it? Being able to fix the galaxy through brute force?” Her fingers drifted down the center of his chestplate, tracing the hard edges. “If only it was that easy.” She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “What if we had sex right here? What if I bent over the table and you-” She ran her fingers through the ends of her hair. “-You could gather my hair back, like this - What? You’re staring at me.”

“I’m paying _very_ close attention to you. Every word.”

“Good.” She pulled his head down and kissed him. There was fervency to it, but it wasn’t aggressive. It was pliant. Almost pleading. “If I want you stop, _really_ stop, I’ll say it in _Mando’a_ , all right? I’ll say _gev_.”

He nodded in swift assent, his hands on her hips. “I understand.”

“Do you?” She was breathing quickly, her chest rising and falling. “I want you to be rough. Call me names. Hold me down. _Conquer_ me.”

She was asking him for something. She was trusting him. He’d better _fekking_ do this right. “Are you done talking? Or would you like to be gagged as well?”

Her eyes lit up, and her whole body drew tight. “Don’t you dare.”

She was quick. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him. But there was only so much space for her to run. He caught her around the waist and dragged her back to the table as she twisted in his arms.

“Let me go! Right now!”

Call her names, she said. Hold her down. “I’m the one giving orders, you spoiled little _vaar’ika_. Now bend over and spread your legs.”

“I will _not_.”

“I think you will.” He couldn’t quite hold back a smirk as he pinned her to the edge of table, forcing his feet between hers. “See?” Leia shuddered and gasped in a way that he was becoming very familiar with. “Are getting wet already?” He kept one arm around her waist but freed the other to roughly palm her breasts.

“How could you possibly think…” She couldn’t finish it. Her voice dissolved and then reformed into a hungry moan as his hand dropped down between her legs. He rubbed her through her pants, savoring the heat of her body and the softness of her folds.

“Guess I’ll have to see for myself.” He leaned into her, pinning her thighs to the table while he slid his hands up under her tunic and found the clasp at the waist of her pants. She squirmed in half-hearted protest as he shoved her pants and underwear down. “You’re not good at following orders,” he said, giving her bare buttock a squeeze. “Good thing you have other uses.”

“Mmmnn.” The helpless noise she made when he pushed her down onto the tablecloth nearly shattered his concentration. His gloved hand was spread between her shoulder blades, putting pressure on her back but not really restraining her. It was a show with meaning. Deliberate intention. An exaggeration of his power for her pleasure.

He used his teeth to loosen the glove on his other hand and tossed it aside so he could caress the curve of her ass and her thighs and feel the little bumps of gooseflesh rising there. Every part of her was so damn pretty.

“Just do it already,” Leia choked out. “Get it over with.”

Boba appreciated the cleverness of this game, the way she could tell him exactly what she wanted by saying the exact opposite. “You’re mine,” he taunted. “I can do whatever I want to you, and take my time doing it.”

Judging by the way she moaned, this was exactly what she wanted to hear. He adjusted his feet, spreading her legs a little further and putting her completely at the mercy of his fingers. “You _are_ wet, you stubborn little idiot. You want me.”

“No,” she answered through her teeth. “I don’t want you.”

“Say that again,” he dared her, plunging a finger into her very wet cunt. He played it in and out, exactly the way she’d taught him. “Say it.”

“I. Don’t-” He drew his wet fingertip up over her clit and she jerked and choked on a gasp. “Oh, _gods_. Boba.”

The way she said his name made him nearly lightheaded. He had to fight the urge to rip off his codpiece and fuck her immediately.

“ _Please_ -”

Well, so much for fighting it.

She almost screamed when he entered her, loud enough that he grateful for an empty house and the lack of close neighbors. He almost forgot about her hair until the ends brushed over the hand still braced on her back. He tried to do it the way she showed him, but he wanted to be sure. “Like this?”

“Yesss. Oh…” Her back arched, her hands braced against the table as he thrust into her. “Just. Like. That.”

He gave her hair a light tug. “Are you going to be good for me now?”

“Never,” she replied, half a laugh and half a moan. She balanced herself on one arm and slipped her right hand down between her legs. “I don’t want you or your _disgusting_ cock.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Boba pulled on her hair a little harder and pressed into her. “You’ll still _take_ it whenever I say so.”

“Ahhh. _Kriff-_ ”

“ _Fek_ , did you just come? You dirty little liar. You...are you ready for me to…” He wanted to do this right, but he only had so much control left.

“Yes. You can-” She returned her right hand to the table, and he could smell the musky scent of her in the air. He would know it anywhere. His wife.

One when together. One when apart.

He released her hair, letting it spill across her shoulders as she bowed her head and pushed back into him with a shiver. Her body was still trembling, but she moved with him as he thrust into her, and moaned softly when he came.

“I don’t...want to feed your ego too much…” She panted when he withdrew. “But your voice. It’s made for this kind of thing.”

“Yeah?”

She straightened and ran her fingers through her hair. “If your next partner is into it...they’re very lucky.”

Boba knew he should respond to her compliment, but the only words his brain processed were “next partner,” followed swiftly by the word “ _NO”_ reverberating through his skull.

“Hey.” Leia was looking at him more closely now, the post-coital flush fading from her cheeks. “I just meant if you ever get married again-”

“I don’t think there will be a next partner,” he said, tucking his dick back into his pants. “You’ve ruined me.” He flashed her a quick grin.

“Oh please.” She was at ease again, smiling at him. “I know it’s earlier than usual, but I think I’ll turn in. Do you want the ‘fresher first…?”

Boba made it quick and turned it over to her. He stacked his armor, checked all of his weapons and said goodnight as she passed by on the way to the bedroom. Then he got out his helmet and started patching frequencies through his commlink to a datapad. Korkie Kryze made it sound like things had taken a turn, but Kryze also had plenty of reasons to lie to him.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t lying.

Kuat was under siege. The First Order was losing ground to the Scourge and one of the last Republic strongholds had been all but vaporized. The Scourge were learning, gaining weapons and becoming more organized. They were said to be madmen, but these weren’t random acts. If they could be stabilized, the clones could be a powerful weapon.

Which was supposed to be Boba’s job.

The Kaminoans ran into a similar problem, long ago. They solved it. And their solution might have been lost to the galaxy if a cadre of old datalockers hadn’t somehow ended up on a transport bound for Concordia. A present, or maybe a bribe, for the Death Watch.

The First Order channels were all dead, but he managed to find a message drop for Captain Rite. The objective was still possible. He needed more time. They had to give him more time. If Admiral Rax decided to take matters into his own hands...

The bedroom door opened behind him, and Boba turned in his seat. Leia was standing there in her nightshirt, her arms folded around herself, shivering in the cool air. “I know we said once a night,” she said, a little sheepishly. “But I can’t sleep. Could you…”

He was up out of his chair before she could finish.

She was teaching him how to use his mouth. By the time she came, twisting and panting on sweat-damp sheets, he was hard again. He rocked into her, slow and steady until he came, and by then he was worn out in the best way. Her fingertips trailed lazily up and down his back and his eyes shut. He was so submerged in that warm haze between orgasm and sleep, he barely noticed when Leia slipped out of bed.

Until he heard her voice from the doorway and knew immediately that something was very, very wrong.

“Boba.”

He raised his head, too quickly, and saw the datapad in her hand. Her other hand was out of sight behind the door frame. So she was armed. Probably with his blaster.

Her gaze was steady. Unflinching. “This is First Order encryption.”


	14. Bang

The moment Leia recognized the encryption, everything stopped. She set down her half-empty glass of water and stared at the datapad without really seeing it.

The First Order.

Boba Fett was working for the First Order.

Strangely enough, what she felt first was relief.

_Of course._

Of course Fett, a mercenary to his core, wasn’t here to claim sanctuary, but to earn a pile of credits as her keeper. It all made sense now.

That was why he was willing to partner with her, despite their history. It was why he was so patient with Ben. It was why he was willing to eat burnt food and keep her secrets.

He couldn’t have anticipated that she would propose having a baby, but must have felt compelled to go along with it. A helpless laugh bubbled up her throat and died there. She had no _kriffing_ clue what the sexual ethics of _that_ might be.

Had he actually given up his virginity for the sake of his cover, or was that part of the lie? It was hard for Leia to believe that his inexperience was feigned. The man had just spent a _ridiculous_ amount of time inexpertly eating her out. If it was a performance, then he was an actor of breath-taking skill. Not to mention commitment.

He might be anyway, virgin or not. She thought about his fingers touching hers at the cantina, the intensity of his dark eyes.

_I don’t make promises I can’t keep_.

She really had believed that he cared about her and Ben. That he liked having a home and a family.

It felt a little like standing at the shore, the tide pulling at her toes. It was so tempting to walk forward and let the waves wash around her. But this sea was unknown to her. And as it turned out, it was a very dangerous body of water.

She knew better. It wasn’t that long ago that he cut a deal with the Empire to deliver Han to Jabba the Hutt. If she harbored any real anger towards Fett, it was for befriending Ben. Her son trusted him and looked up to him. He would devastated if he knew the truth.

She crossed the room to the neat stack of armor and weapons. His blasters were charged and prepped, just like always. Her eyes fell on his helmet. She liked it better when that was the only face Boba Fett had.

She shook her head, dispelling all of the sharp-edged and complicated thoughts that might make this difficult. There were a few things she needed to know.

Red eyes flashed through her mind. _The boy. He will be mine._

She thought she was safe here.

Leia drew in a long, slow breath and moved toward the bedroom with the datapad in one hand and the blaster in the other.

The bounty hunter was right where she left him. Completely naked, sprawled out on his stomach across the bed with his arm still flung across the space she’d vacated. His breathing was even, the broad expanse of his scarred back rising and falling steadily.

He was a man capable of many things.

“Boba,” she said, and he raised his head as if responding to an alarm. His eyes flickered to datapad, and then to her hand hidden behind the doorway. He looked...less afraid than she expected. Did he think she wouldn’t hurt him?

“This is First Order encryption,” she said. His eyes remained riveted to her face, his expression unreadable.

“Are you going to shoot me if I sit up?”

“Yes.”

“I’d rather talk face to face.”

“And I’d rather look at your ass right now. It makes me less angry than your face.”

“I know you hate the First Order,” he said, slowly and carefully. “But this isn’t personal. It’s a job.”

“Not personal?” Her voice rose sharply. “My life. My son’s life. That’s not _personal_.”

“I would never let anything-” He pushed up on his arms as he spoke.

Leia dropped the datapad and brought the blaster up swiftly in a two-handed grip.

He froze, glaring at her. “Leia. You’re can’t _karking_ shoot me over a _job_.”

She lowered the barrel towards his right shoulder and fired. He rolled, just barely clearing the space where the bolt singed the sheets and left a hole in the mattress. His eyes were wide with shock as he looked up at the blaster that was now aimed at his head. “ _Fierfek_ ,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Go ahead,” Leia told him coldly. “Tell me what I can’t do again.”

He looked from the gun to her face, and wet his lips. “The ground is hard, and you don’t have any digging tools.”

“What?”

“If you kill me. What are going to do with my body? You don’t want Ben to see it.”

Leia’s hands tightened on the blaster. “Don’t you talk about my son. Not now. How long do we have?”

“I don’t-”

“When is the First Order coming for us?”

He blinked.

Leia expected him to lie. She wasn’t expecting to see confusion.

“I wasn’t hired for you,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. “I was hired to retrieve a datafile from the base. One of the trainers on Kamino took it and gave it to the Death Watch leaders during the Clone War. It contains the formula for a kind of gene therapy they practiced on my dad’s clones. To keep the rapid aging from causing mutations. They want to use it to treat the Scourge.”

If he was trying to pacify her he was doing a terrible job. That kind of technology in the hands of the First Order could be devastating. Why not invent something less damning? “It can’t be that hard to steal one file.”

“Harder than you might think,” he returned with a caustic smile, “since my client doesn’t want anyone to notice and I can’t gain authorized access without residency.”

It fit. His need to enter as a refugee. His insistence that they go to Concordia. But there was still one thing she needed to know. “You haven’t told them anything about me? Or Ben?”

“We made a deal,” he reminded her. “To help one another acquire residency. Selling you out to the First Order would violate the terms of that deal.” His eyes cut to the blaster. “Trying to shoot me is getting pretty _fekking_ close to the line.”

“Granted.” She lowered the blaster and put it back in safety mode. “But the First Order wants to kill me and take my son and you’re _working_ _for them_.”

His brows drew together slightly. “What do they want with Ben?”

“Snoke wants him. I don’t know whether he wants to kill him or train him, and honestly I don’t care.”

“Snoke. I’ve heard the name.” Boba’s expression turned contemplative. “I deal mostly with Admiral Rax.”

“Why deal with them at all? The galaxy is _burning_. Millions have died and millions more have been displaced. None of it would have happened if the First Order hadn’t created the Scourge.”

“Because they’re going to pay me an _obscene_ amount of credits for that datafile. More than I’ve earned in my entire life.” Boba shifted, resting on his side with his arm propping up his head. “And as long as we’re married it’s your money too. You could buy a fortress, if that would make you feel safe. Your very own stronghold. House Organa.”

“There’s no safety for me or for Ben as long as Snoke is alive.”

“Do you want me to kill him?”

She almost dropped the blaster on the floor. There was no hesitation in his voice, he was perfectly matter-of-fact about it. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Snoke is powerful in the force and has the protection of the First Order.”

“First rule of bounty hunting. Everyone has a weakness.”

She raised her eyebrows. “What’s mine?”

“Put the blaster down first.”

After a few seconds of consideration, she returned to the main room and laid it on the table. When she re-entered the bedroom, she showed him her empty hands.

Boba nodded in approval. “Your weakness is that you think you can fix this galaxy. It doesn’t want to be fixed.”

Leia folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t think that I can fix it. I know that I can _try_.”

There was a long, but not uncomfortable silence while they looked at one another. It almost felt like they were meeting for the first time.

“So that’s it,” she said. “You’re working for the First Order and I’m hiding from them.”

“That’s it.” His mouth flexed downward. “You really thought I was fucking the merchandise?”

“What? Don’t tell me that’s the second rule of bounty hunting.”

“It _is_.”

She crossed over to the bed and looked down at the scorched hole in the mattress with a sigh. “I apologize. I was wrong about you. You’re mercenary scum but you’re not _that_ kind of mercenary scum. Is it really the second rule?”

“Also called the Stoneless Syms Rule, after a bounty hunter who...didn’t follow it.”

Leia grimaced and fussed with the ruined sheets. “I’ll guess I’ll just cover it with a towel or something for now,” she grumbled. “You had to be laying on _my_ side of the bed.”

He looked at her for a moment in silence. Then he patted the space beside him. “There’s room over here.”

Maybe what she had to come to grips with was the fact that she truly didn’t know what to make of Boba Fett. He was still working for her enemies. They were on opposite sides.

But his side of the bed didn’t have a hole in it.

Somehow she slept. And when she woke up she was still curled up beside him, his body tucked around hers in the limited space. Everywhere his bare skin touched hers was warm and solid, and just below her nightshirt an sizable erection prodded the back of her thigh.

He stirred and pulled back a little, even though it must have put him perilously close to the edge of the bed. Leia scooted as far in the other direction as she could. “Um. Good morning.”

“Morning.”

Leia waited, but he made no move to rise. Maybe he didn’t want to draw attention to his state. “I guess I’ll shower.”

“Yup.” He sat up when she did.

“I can wait, if you...need to use the ‘fresher first.”

“No. You go ahead.” He scratched the stubble on his jaw.

“Okay.” She kicked off the covers and swung her legs off the bottom edge of the low bed. He was already standing by the time she was up, and the way his eyes followed her to the ‘fresher made Leia feel like she was playing a very strange game of hide-and-go-seek.

She didn’t get it until she returned to the main room and saw that his armor and blasters had been moved.

Oh.

The bounty hunter was dressed and slicing bread at the sideboard. “What are you doing?”

“Making toast.”

“I can do that.”

“Sit. I’ll take care of it.” He jerked his head towards the table. There was a cup of caf waiting for her, exactly where she’d laid the blaster the night before. Leia sat down, drank her caf, and watched her husband pull a pan out from the cupboard.

“Do you like eggs?” He asked.

“Uh. Yes.”

“We have some of those leftover sausages, right? The smoked ones?”

“Yes. In the cold storage. Why?”

“I don’t know how to make much, but I know you can mix almost anything with eggs. Good source of protein.” He sliced the sausage into chunks and put them in the pan. “Which button turns on the top heat?”

“The green one. Sorry...are you...are you making me breakfast?”

“Yup.”

Leia took another sip of caf. “Is it a peace offering, or are you afraid I’ll poison your food?”

“Both.”

“ _Kriffing_ hell. I wasn’t going to _kill_ you.” Not immediately, anyway.

“That’s very reassuring." His flat tone implied the opposite. He cracked four eggs and added them to pan when the sausage started to sizzle. Leia was starting to feel hungry and little annoyed. He could make eggs. Why had they been living off of toast and canned fruit?

When the eggs were cooked, he scooped half of the mixture onto a plate and dropped a piece of toast on top of it before he put it front of her.

“Thank you,” she said politely. He’d forgotten the salt, but it was hot and the sausage added some flavor. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked for her like this.

It was nice.

No, it was better than nice.

“This is great,” she told him, and he met her eyes briefly and nodded. Maybe this could be a new start. After all of the lies and secrets and sex, he knew what she was running from. And she knew what he was really after.

“So this gene therapy. How does it work?”

One of his eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t pause as he spread preserves on his toast. “I don’t know. That’s not part of my job.”

“But you said it was practiced on Kamino. Did some of the clones have the same mutations as the Scourge?”

“Don’t think so.” He picked up his own cup of caf. “A built-in commlink would have come in handy on a battlefield.”

“Most intelligence reports I saw refer to it more as a...collective consciousness. A hivemind.” Leia tapped her fingers against her cup thoughtfully. “Early on in the Clone War some researchers theorized that maybe the Kamino clones had an interconnected consciousness because of how well they worked together and prevented casualties. Later studies pointed out that these theories were inherently prejudiced, seeing ordinary human behaviors as something extraordinary in clones.” Leia finished off her eggs and reached for the fruit preserves. “Could you-”

He slid it across the table to her. “I don’t know how they plan to implement it. From what I’ve heard, it’s hard enough to take _one_ of the Scourge alive.”

“Maybe they only need one. The way they communicate…”

Boba pushed back from the table and stood. “I’m going to shower.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Leia inquired snarkily as he passed by. “What if I put a corrosive in the water supply?”

“Then you probably shouldn’t drink that caf.”

She looked down at her empty plate. The fact that he would even discuss the gene therapy felt like this breakfast, an offering and a test. He wanted to know if she could live with it. If she could accept it.

What really bothered her was how much she wanted to.

Did he mean it, when he offered to kill Snoke? What would he want in return? Her eyes dropped to her stomach, even though she knew it was too early to know.

Snoke’s death might keep Ben safe, but it wouldn’t defeat the First Order. Keeping the Kamino datafile out of Boba's grasp could buy the remnants of the Republic a little more time, but it could also draw the First Order to Concordia.

She’d thought she was helpless out here.

Now too much was in her hands.

She finished her caf and started on the breakfast dishes. Boba emerged, dressed in his armor. He set his helmet down on the table and picked up a towel to dry the plates. They worked in silence until everything was done. “You’re going to be late,” she said, taking the towel from his hands.

“See you tonight?” He said it casually, but it was a question. It demanded an answer.

Leia crossed the space between them in a few quick steps and pulled his head down for a kiss. He gathered her into his arms, and one kiss turned into a series of kisses that stole the air from her lungs and guaranteed that he would be _very_ late. “Thanks again for breakfast,” she said when they parted.

He looked down at her with heat in his eyes, his hand spread over his lower back. “I can make pancakes.”

“Ben loves pancakes,” she said, taking a step back instead of seizing his belt and dragging him to the bedroom. He had to go to work. She couldn’t keep him here just because she would rather fuck than think about what to do next.

After he left she considered getting out the vibrator, but decided take a walk instead. The sun was shining, even if the air was cold. She could go into town to check her messages at Ghee’s. The only messages she’d received in response to her posting so far where the depressing, generic holonet sort. People reported that she was dead, that she was alive but captured, that she was always too hot for Han Solo, or that she wasn’t actually that hot up close.

She pulled her coat tight as she left the house and then almost stumbled off the front porch when she saw a figure in Mandalorian armor. “Oh. Arla!”

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Boba’s aunt removed her helmet and tucked it under one arm. “Boba at work?”

“Yes. Come in, please.” Leia stepped back inside and held the door open.

“Where’s Ben at?”

“School.”

“Oh.” The older woman drew a small package from her belt and laid it on the table. “I brought him one of those model kit things. It’s a star fighter or something.”

“Can you stay? You could give it to him when he gets home.”

“Can’t. Just in and out at the base, checking on supply shipments. We’ve had a rash of spice smugglers and thieves hiding in the compartments. Caught one last week that wedged himself in below the cockpit with an air supply and a shitpot. Could have lived in there for days.”

“You could stop by the school on your way out,” Leia suggested. “Just to say hi. He could probably use a little excitement. He stayed over at a friend’s house and I doubt they slept much.”

“So it was it was just you and Boba here last night.” Arla smirked at her. “That’s nice. Might as well enjoy yourselves. Not like you have to worry about getting pregnant.”

Her spine stiffened with surprise. It took her a second to recall that Arla thought the clones were all sterile. “I mean...I _could_. Some of the clones had children.”

“Well, sure. You make a million copies, you’re bound to get a little variation. But Boba is a pure genetic replica of Jango. He couldn’t get you pregnant if he-” Her eyes riveted to Leia’s face and then her mouth snapped shut. “Oh _osik_. You don’t know. Wait. Does _he_ not know?”

Leia felt the sudden urge to sit down. She took a step to the side and sank into a chair. “Was there something...with Jango?”

Arla dragged a chair out slowly and sat. “It’s whatever _his_ dad had, I guess. They tried for almost ten years before they adopted me, and then Jango was born. Ma said he was their miracle baby.” She winced a little and rubbed her temple. “Jango got tested for it when he was young. I guess he...never got around to telling Boba.”

“No. He didn’t.”

“He’s got Ben,” Arla said in an uncharacteristically tentative tone. “Maybe he’s not his own blood, but that shouldn’t...does that matter to Boba?”

Leia stared unseeingly at the tablecloth, at the singed black ring from the too-hot pot. “It’s just…”

“A disappointment.”

Truthfully, Leia wasn’t disappointed at all. A little exasperated, considering how much effort she put into something that was never going to happen. But she thought that Boba _would_ be disappointed, and that felt surprisingly bad.

What if she didn’t tell him?

It was a cynical, cold-blooded thought worthy of the mercenary himself. As long as he believed that pregnancy was a possibility she had something he wanted. No matter what happened with their residency, no matter what happened with his job, she had a certain amount of leverage. She thought about the way he’d kissed her this morning and her pulse picked up. It wouldn’t be hard to keep him happy.

“I’m sorry,” Arla said abruptly, drawing her out of her reverie. “I’ve got to go. I...think it would be better if you told him. I mean, he has a right to know, but…” She was restless and clearly uncomfortable.

Leia forced a smile. “I’ll take care of it.”


	15. Questions and Answers

At the beginning of each shift, the base guards gathered for a briefing. There was rarely anything of importance. Maybe a few minor changes to the docking schedule. Reports on equipment that wasn’t working. Boba usually paid close attention anyway. You never knew what information could be of use.

This morning was different. His mind was too occupied.

He had a problem.

He could see it clearly now, what he’d managed to obscure through stubbornness and willful self-delusion. The moment she dragged her mouth from his and looked up at him with those fiery dark eyes he knew exactly what he wanted.

He wanted her. Not as a temporary alliance, not as the means to a child, not as a pleasurable distraction. He wanted her by his side every day. He wanted to take her and Ben aboard his shipand make them breakfast every morning. Fly around the galaxy, taking jobs, teaching Ben to fly and to hunt. Just like his dad taught him.

It was what he wanted, as sharply and as keenly as he’d once wanted his father to return to him, and equally as unattainable.

For one thing, Leia might want him dead.

And even if she didn’t, even if she liked him a little, she was too idealistic to be a bounty hunter and too strong-minded to do nothing. She would never meld herself into his world. His only shot at maintaining some kind of connection was to have a child with her. But even that depended on her liking him a little and not wanting him dead.

So. He had his work cut out for him.

Boba figured his shift would give him plenty of time to work out a plan. The way Leia kissed him suggested that she still wanted to have sex, so tonight was as good a starting place as any. He would give her everything she wanted, until she was flushed and content. Lounging across the bed like the royalty she was, her breasts bare and her eyes still smoldering with lingering heat.

_Fek_. What he didn’t need on his shift was an erection.

It was the word “bounty” that dragged him out of his brooding. Commander Turek was answering a question from one of the other guards, laughing a little as she did. “Dead or alive, according to Sundari. Makes no difference to them. As far as I’m concerned, you find a spice smuggler in a crate and their neck somehow gets broken on the way out...it’s been known to happen.”

“Is it true two of them got through at Keldabe?”

The commander’s smile became a little fixed. “They’ve had a sudden change of command at Keldabe. That’s all I’ll say.” She shifted and hooked her thumbs on her belt. “I know we’re understaffed. Rau knows it too. But that’s not likely to change for a while, so I’m asking all of you to keep it up. Shoulder what you have to and remember that I’ve got your six.” She jerked her head toward the chronometer on the wall. “That’s it. Get to work.”

He was on his third rotation through his patrol area when Fenn Rau appeared at his side, his shoulders tight. “Boba,” he said in greeting, matching his stride. “Take a break. There’s someone in the conference room to see you.”

It was pointless to ask who. If Fenn was going to tell him he would have. Boba slowly made his way indoors, passing the control room on the way. The interior guards were speaking in low voices, and when they saw him they went silent. Not good.

When he opened the door and saw Bo-Katan Kryze, his stomach twisted. He stopped just inside the door. Planted his feet. “What is this about?”

Bo-Katan was watching him closely with those bright green eyes. “Your wife.”

He had to be careful not to let anything show. Not his relief. And not the sharp twist of worry that followed.

“Allennia?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Boba.” She took a purposeful step towards him. “Your _wife_. Leia Organa.”

“Oh. _Her_.”

“You actually married her," she noted, one eyebrow arched. "I checked.”

“I did.”

“Didn’t you freeze her first husband in carbonite and sell him to Jabba the Hutt?”

“Did that too.”

“And now you’ve adopted their son.” She folded her arms over her chestplate. “You know that the adoption vow is _darasuum_ , don’t you? A child can disown their parents. A parent cannot disown their child.”

“His dad is dead and his family has lots of enemies. Maybe Ben could use a stepdad with a flamethrower.”

The _Mand’alor_ eyed him for a moment in silence. Then she held out her hand. “Give me your helmet.”

That was absolutely the last thing Boba wanted to do, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter. He lifted it off and handed it to her.

She turned it over in her hands, examining it. “What do you think Jango Fett would make of all this?”

“Doubt he’d like the paint job.”

“Doubt so too.” She looked mildly amused by that. “His dad would have worn these colors. Did he ever tell you anything about Marvenn Fett?”

“Only that the Death Watch killed him.”

“So Arla never told you what happened.”

He waited. Said nothing.

“Jango was just a child at the time. Arla was oh...fourteen or so. She ran away twice before. Tried to disown them, legally. But Marvenn Fett was the only law in those parts, and he wouldn’t have it. So she joined the Death Watch. Tor Vizsla promised to make Marvenn follow the rules.”

“Thanks for the history lesson.” He held out his hand for his helmet, but Bo-Katan ignored him.

“I know what your dad probably told you. About the Death Watch. About the ‘True Mandalorians.’ The truth is, Mereel’s band of mercenaries never amounted to much before Jango took charge, and even then they were barely more than a couple of clans. There was a much bigger fight going on. And maybe if we’d been able to unite instead of turning on our own…” She looked down at his helmet and rubbed her thumb over a spot where the blue paint was flaking and pale green was beginning to show through.

“I’m not your enemy, Boba. So maybe it’s time you told me what you and Leia Organa are doing here.” She tossed a small holoprojector on the conference table, and a flickering image jumped to life. Leia stood at the counter at Ghee’s, rubbing her arms while the woman plugged in the transmission line and handed her an antiquated datapad. The _Mand’alor_ tossed a second projector on the table, this one for the posting Leia had made.

Wanted. Information about Leia Organa, formerly of Alderaan.

Boba looked at the timestamp. That was the night she stormed out of the house and returned to ride him like a Tuskan raider. What the _fek_ was she up to?

He’d made the mistake of underestimating her before.

Bo-Katan was still watching him through the flickering images. “I knew something was up the moment I met her. But it wasn’t until _this_ was brought to my attention that I knew who she was.”

Boba had a pretty good idea who brought her to her attention. Not Fenn Rau. A close relative of hers that was very recently at _Bral’ruus._  Had Korkie known when he approached them at the cantina? Was it a warning?

“It’s a signal,” Bo-Katan’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Who is she signaling?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. Truthfully, but it didn’t seem to satisfy the _Mand’alor_.

“Don’t tell me you and your wife have secrets from one another.”

“More than a few.” His eyes returned to the recording playing on repeat. Leia rubbing her arms. Shifting restlessly as Ghee fired up her ancient dataport. She was breathing as if she was in a hurry, but her eyes were bright and focused.

This wasn’t a job to her. It was personal.

And now she knew everything.

If he was going to finish this job, his time frame would have to be significantly accelerated. “I don’t know anything about it,” he told Bo-Katan. “If you want answers you’ll have to ask her. Can I get back to work? We’re pretty short-handed.”

The corners of her mouth tilted up, a smile that didn’t come remotely close to her eyes. “Sure you can,” she said, her voice soft. “Finish your shift. Go home to your family. Tell your wife she has three days to report to Sundari. And if any of her allies show up in Mandalorian space before then they will be blasted on sight.” She turned on her heel and left the conference room.

Boba’s hands were steady as he put his helmet back on, his pulse slightly less so. He took the back way to his patrol area, needing the quiet, needing a few moments to think.

As he cut through an unused cargo area, the heat sensor in his helmet tripped, and a flash of red appeared in the corner of his display. Someone was crouched behind a crate. Blaster in hand, Boba slowly circled around it.

The man huddled behind the crate was pitiful, his skin filthy and his clothing ragged. He had the pupils of a spicer. “D-d-don’t come any closer-” He raised a small snub nosed blaster, his hands shaking.

Beneath his helmet, Boba smiled.

He put a single bolt between the man’s eyes, then turned the blaster and shot himself in the arm.


	16. Family

“It’s not serious,” Commander Turek assured her, and by Leia’s estimation her husband seemed more annoyed than anything else. For being shot at close range, the wound was barely more than a graze across his left bicep.

The medic gave him a shot for the pain and then left him sitting at the kitchen table with a few extra bacta compresses and instructions to rest.

“I’ll be in tomorrow,” Boba told Turek as she was preparing to leave with the medic.

She raised her eyebrows in response. “Take a day. No one will think less of you.”

“You don’t have the staff to cover my shift.”

Turek smiled in rueful acknowledgement. “ _Osik._  I’ll switch you and Kenk for a few days and you can run the comms. Just don’t tell Rau.” She nodded to Leia. “He’s a good man, your husband. We won’t let anything happen to him.”

Suddenly they were alone in a house that seemed too quiet. Boba looked around with a frown. “Where’s Ben?”

“Oh, _damn it_.” It was well past the time he was usually home from school. Leia hurriedly pulled on her jacket. “I’d better go see where he is. You should lie down and rest.”

“It’s a graze,” Boba said dismissively, but he stood and moved towards the bedroom. “A lucky shot.”

A lucky shot. A twitchy spice smuggler had managed to succeed where she’d failed.

Hm.

Ben wasn’t at the school, but the staff said he’d left at the usual time. Leia’s stomach was beginning to tighten with panic when Ghee waved her over from her shabby storefront.  

“He tucked himself right over there between those two buildings,” the older woman said. “Been keeping an eye on him.”

Her son was huddled in a narrow alley, his arms wrapped around his knees. Leia could feel the weight of his sadness and fear. It clung to her and pulled her down to her knees beside him. “Ben? What’s wrong?”

“You know what’s wrong.” His voice shook. “Why do you always pretend like you don’t know?”

“I don’t-”

“He’s dead! Just say it!”

“Who...Oh. _No_. Ben, he’s going to be fine. What did you hear?”

“That Boba got shot.” His small body was coiled and tense. “He’s really okay?”

“Yes! He was barely hurt. Come see for yourself.”

He didn’t move. He was locked down, his eyes unfocused and distant.

“Here.” Leia put her hands lightly on his arms. “I’ll show you, okay? Breathe with me. In and out. In and out. Can you feel that? Breathe with me.” She met her son’s eyes and was reassured by the spark in them. “Can you feel what I’m feeling?”

“You were scared too.”

“And then…”

“You saw him. And you felt better.”

There was suddenly a lump in her throat. One she couldn’t seem to swallow. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Boba was resting on the bed with his eyes shut, still in his armor. When Ben climbed up beside him he opened his eyes and peeled the bandage back to show him the wound. He told the story again, the one about the spice smuggler.

Leia believed it even less the second time she heard it.

She could hear the two of them talking while she fixed dinner. The rise and fall of their voices. Ben’s elaborate account of his sleepover at Marla Turek’s house, and Boba’s occasional low question or response.

_He’s a good man, your husband._

Maybe a good man was a stretch, but Boba had good qualities. He was thoughtful and capable. Loyal to a fault. He looked her in the eyes when he spoke to her and respected the lines that she drew. In another galaxy, under a different set of circumstances, he was exactly the kind of steady, even-tempered man Bail Organa told her she should marry.

Of course, Boba also had qualities Bail would _not_ approve of. His general disdain for authority, for one. His lack of family or social ties. The way he sized up every person as if he was calculating their worth. Exactly the kind of qualities Leia had always found perversely attractive.

Then there was the way he touched her. The way he kissed her until she couldn’t breathe. The way he looked at her when they were tangled together, the fierce light in his eyes. He tried so hard to please her. To give her what she wanted.

_I can make pancakes._

Just as believing that he’d betrayed her to First Order made her question all of his actions, knowing the truth made the answer much harder to ignore. And there was a moment, before she knew the extent of his injuries...she _was_ scared. There was something comforting and secure about their little family. Something _real_.

By bedtime, Ben was calm and content. She tucked him into his bed, his _shaap’kad_ beside him, and made her way to her own bed. Boba’s eyes opened when she sat on the edge beside him. “Can you sit up?” She tapped his chestplate with his fingers. “I just washed these sheets.”

“I thought they smelled less...burnt.” He pushed himself awkwardly up with his good arm. “What did you do about the hole in the mattress?”

“Stuffed it full of rags and turned the sheet so the hole wouldn’t show as much. I don’t suppose you can sew?”

“I can repair a seam. Or stitch a wound.”

Leia raised her eyebrows as she worked at the seals on his armor. “A man of many talents. My mother tried to teach me embroidery. Once.” She could hear him grinding his teeth together as she eased the shoulder of his flightsuit down over his injured arm. “We have some _tihaar_ left,” she said, only half joking.

“Pass.” Boba leaned back as she tugged the suit down to his hips, watching her through half-shut eyes. He shifted when she opened his fly. “Do you want-”

“Oh gods, no.” She gave him an exasperated look. “You need to rest, remember?”

“Probably couldn’t get it up anyway,” he grumbled. “ _Fekking_ pain meds.”

“Those _fekking_ pain meds are the only reason you’ll be able to sleep tonight.” She pulled the suit off completely and laid it aside. “Do you want your sleeping pants?”

“No.”

Leia tucked the blankets up around him and touched his forehead with the backs of her fingers. “Do you feel dizzy or cold?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you going to tell me what really happened?”

His eyes darted to hers. And then the corner of his mouth turned up in wry acknowledgement. “Shot myself in the arm. Everything else was true.”

“Why?”

“Change of plans.” He shifted again, adjusting his injured arm. “I think we should run.”

“What?” Leia stared at him, waiting for an explanation. None was offered. “What...what about residency?”

“ _Kark_ residency,” he said with sudden vehemence. “It’s an ugly moon anyway. Once I get paid, we can go anywhere you want. You’re my wife. Ben is my son. I’m...content with that arrangement if you are.”

The lump was back in her throat. “I…”

“If not, we can split the money and go our separate ways. And if you’re already pregnant, I’ll pay you for the surrogacy. If that’s still something you would still consider.”

He stopped talking abruptly, as if he’d rehearsed the words but not the ending. Leia fussed with the blankets. “You need to rest. We can talk about that later.”

“There’s no later. You heard Turek. She’s putting me on the comms tomorrow. That means she has to give me access to the datafiles.” He shook his head. “I should have fallen off the observation deck the first day.”

The full weight of his words hit her. “Tomorrow? You’re going to steal the Kamino file tomorrow?”

“Have to,” he said grimly. “You’ve been made. Bo-Katan was at the base today. She showed me your post.”

Oh gods. Her _post_. Her stomach churned and her hands curled into fists.

“What the _fek_ were you trying to do?” There was no anger in his voice. Just curiosity.

“Trying to find my brother.”

“Did it work?”

She shook her head.

“Too bad. You have three days to report to Sundari and explain yourself to the _Mand’alor_. I wouldn’t expect her to take your word for it.”

Bo-Katan had so cleverly given her time to run. To dig a grave of her own choosing. If she ran and she was caught, Allennia Joldo would be deported. If she turned herself in, the _Mand’alor_ would have to condemn Leia Organa as a spy for the Republic. To do otherwise would jeopardize the entire system’s status a neutral territory.

“Leia.” Boba was watching her face closely. She was probably white as a sheet.

“Do they execute spies here?”

“If we run, you won’t have to find out.”

“You can’t run. The second you disappear they’ll do a full security review of the base. Every step you took, every file you touched. They’ll figure out who you were working for.”

His head tilted. “That would be good for your side, wouldn’t it?”

“It might, if that pushed the Mandalore system to declare war on the First Order. But it would be the end of the refugee transports. No more asylum.” She looked down at her clenched hands. “And it wouldn’t make Ben any safer. There’s only one thing I can do. I have to go to Sundari and convince Bo-Katan of your innocence.”

His eyebrows lifted. “ _My_ innocence?”

“Yes. Obviously you knew who I was. But you knew nothing about my secret attempts to contact my allies. They were my actions and mine alone. And If I can convince her of that, maybe she’ll let Ben stay here. With you.”

“ _Fek_ me. You’re going to sacrifice yourself.”

“If I have to. Maybe it won’t come to that. I’m told I can be very persuasive.” She leaned toward him. “Look at me. I’ll keep your secrets. But you have to give me your word that once this job is complete, your contact with the First Order ends. If Snoke gets anywhere near Ben-”

“I’ll die first.” He said it without hesitation. “I’ll keep him safe. And I’ll bring him to Sundari, if you have to stay there.”

A hollow laugh caught in her throat. “You mean if I’m in prison. You’ll bring my son to visit me. In prison.”

“Maybe you won’t be there for long.” His eyes dropped to her stomach. “And if you are pregnant?”

Leia drew in a slow, shuddering breath. It would be so easy. _Take care of my kid and I’ll take of yours._ But they were beyond making deals now and the cost of deception was too high. She needed Boba to care for Ben and protect him if she couldn’t. She needed it to be real.

He was still watching her. Waiting. Hoping.

“Arla was here today,” she said, forcing the words into existence.

His brow furrowed in confusion.

“She told me something about your dad. There was a hereditary condition in his family. Because you’re such a close genetic match...she believes it would be very difficult, if not impossible for you to father children.”

He flinched before he could stop himself. Before his face turned into a mask as impenetrable as his helmet.

“I’m sorry,” she said, knowing how empty the words were.

“It makes sense.” His intent gaze was fixed on the ceiling. “That’s why he…” He stopped.

“You don’t know that.”

His mouth twisted, a fleeting acknowledgement. Then he turned his head to face her. “You didn’t have to tell me. But you did.”

“You have a right to know. And Arla certainly wasn’t going to tell you.”

His mouth flattened. “My _family_.”

“It’s complicated,” she agreed. “Join the club. Now you should really get some rest. You have a file to steal tomorrow and I have to convince Bo-Katan Kryze not to put me in front of a firing squad.”

He caught her wrist as she started to rise. “Are _you_ going to sleep?”

“Probably not.”

“Lay with me.” He tilted his head toward his uninjured shoulder.

“Okay, fine.” Leia kicked off her shoes and settled down at his side, not even bothering to get under the blankets. “Just until you fall asleep.” She laid her cheek on his shoulder and spread her palm flat on his bare chest. Her fingertips brushed the now-familiar texture of his scars, and her eyes shut as she listened to his breathing. She didn’t intend to fall asleep.

But she did.

She woke up early and immediately, her mind rushing to put all of the pieces together. Boba was already awake, staring silently at the ceiling. His eyes flickered over to hers.

“For luck,” she said, just before she leaned over and kissed him. His fingers twined in her hair, his mouth hot and urgent against hers. When they parted Leia laid her head back on his shoulder and slid her hand beneath the covers.

“ _Fek_. That for luck too?”

“No. I just want to.”

He grunted and thrust up into her hand.

The oil was still on the table beside the low bed, less used in recent days. She straddled his hips in the predawn light, being careful of his injured arm. “Don’t move,” she told him as she poured a little oil on her palm. “Let me do all the work.”

He shifted beneath her, his eyes dark and hungry. “As you wish.”

“Hm, I like that.” She stroked him until he was panting, his body taut beneath hers. She slipped her free hand into her pants and touched her wet and aching center. “Open your mouth.” He obeyed immediately, licking and sucking her arousal from her fingers. “ _Jate_ _riduur_ ,” she praised him and on the next stroke he came.

He _was_ a good husband. She would always be thankful for that.

They showered together. When they emerged from the ‘fresher, Ben was standing outside the door, with his usual wild bedhead. “What were you guys doing in there?”

“Showering,” Boba answered without a hint of inflection. “I have to leave early this morning.”

“I heard mom laughing.”

“Breakfast,” Leia said quickly. “We have toast or-”

“I’ll make pancakes.” The bounty hunter gave her a quick look. “I can do _some_ things one-handed.”

“With help, maybe.” She opened the cupboard. “What do you need to make pancakes? Because we have...eggs.”

“Eggs, then. And sausage?” Boba looked down at Ben, who shrugged.

“You can eat my sausage.”

Leia couldn’t watch them eating together. If she thought about it even for a second Ben would be able to feel it. She couldn’t think about wrestling a comb through his curls. She couldn’t think about the note she put in his bag asking his teacher to send him to the base childcare after school. She couldn’t think about the hug she gave him at the door. “Have a good day,” she told him, and her son paused.

“It’s going to be okay, right?” He asked. “Boba’s gonna be okay?”

“Of course he is.”

“And you’re okay? You’re not scared anymore?”

“I’m scared you’re going to be late for school. Go.” She wrapped her arms around herself as she watched him jump off the porch and bound towards town. It wasn’t until he was out of sight that she shut the door.

Boba was trying to put on his armor one-handed. She went to help him. “Remember what you told me before? That everyone has a weakness?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s Bo-Katan’s?”

“Her past.” He winced a little as she straightened his injured arm and fit his gauntlet to it. “She tries too hard to make up for it. Plays it safe. Gives her nephew too much free reign.” His eyes found hers. “Stay away from Korkie. Refuse to speak to anyone but the _Mand’alor_.”

“Got it.”

The bounty hunter took a step towards her. “If I was a betting man, I’d put my money on you.” He put his gloved fingers on her chin and kissed her lightly. “I told Turek I’d be in early for training.”

“Be _careful_. If you get caught-”

“I won’t. But if I am...I'll sign provisional custody over to Arla."

It didn’t take long for her to prepare. One last time she walked through the shabby little house, turning off lights and straightening the beds. Ben’s pillow was on the floor, and when she picked it up she saw Han’s dice.

If there was ever a time when she needed his luck…

She tucked the dice into her shirt. “I’ll give them back,” she told her son’s empty bed. “I promise.”

Then she put on her jacket and walked to the spaceport. There was a transport pass waiting for her. The _Mand’alor_ had thought of everything. She was the only passenger.

Or so she thought.

She had just sat down when the doors opened and two men in Mandalorian armor entered.

“Hello,” Tristan Wren removed his helmet. “Headed to Sundari?”

“Oh. Hello. Yes, I am.”

“So are we.”

“We?” She looked past him at his companion, another man in yellow and white armor.

And then she felt it.

**Leia.**

_LUKE._


	17. Scatter

As the shuttle doors closed Leia launched herself into Luke’s arms. Everything, the transport, Tristan Wren, her perilous mission to Sundari, was forgotten. For a moment, the galaxy was whole.

As soon as they parted, she gave her twin a shove. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I missed you too,” he said as he took off his helmet. “I’ve been hiding out on Krownest at the Clan Wren stronghold. I couldn’t believe it when Tris told me you were on Concordia. Where is Ben now?”

“He’s safe, I left him with Boba Fett.”

Luke shook his head. “Yeah, nothing in that sentence makes sense to me. I guess we’ve got some catching up to do.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Leia grimaced. “I _kriffed_ up. The _Mand’alor_ -”

“I know that part. That’s why we’re here.”

“There’s not much that happens at _Bral’ruus_ without Fenn Rau knowing about it,” Tristan offered. “We’ll go together and plead your case to Bo-Katan. Clan Wren stands ready to join the fight on the side of the Republic, and I have recordings from over a hundred leaders who feel the same way.”

Leia couldn’t speak. Couldn’t find the words to express just a fraction of her relief. She was no longer going to Sundari as a supplicant but as a member of a delegation.

The lights on the transport flashed, announcing their departure. “Come on,” Luke said, pulling her towards a bench. “We have the whole trip to plan.”

 

* * *

 

By the time Boba finished his comm systems training, he estimated that Leia would be about a quarter of the way to Sundari. By the time his shift was over, her fate could be decided.

She _was_ very persuasive.

But he was already mapping out several contingency plans in his head. Some of them required time and all of them required money. This reality made stealing the Kamino file his first priority. Leia might not like it, but the only safety in this galaxy was purchased with credits and skills. With the stack the First Order had promised him, nothing was beyond reach. Not even a jailbreak from Sundari detention.

“I think you’ve got it,” said Brevar, the other guard assigned to the comm systems. When do you usually take your break? The half mark?”

“Yup. I can wait if you want to take yours first.”

“I take mine at three-quarters. My wife works at the spaceport, she always stops by on her way home.” The other man leaned back in his seat and folded his arms. “I’m gonna miss that when the baby comes. I keep thinking that this is the last time we’ll be able to do this, or that. Meanwhile Ei just wants it to be over.” He chuckled. “It’s hard, those last few weeks. I’m sure you remember.”

With so many other things to think about, Boba had managed to avoid thinking about _that_.

There was no reason he had to take his aunt’s word for it, but there was also no reason to doubt her. If Jango was genetically infertile, she was one of the few beings who might have knowledge of it.

All these years he had believed in a possibility. Even though he had never pursued it, it remained a steady and distant reassurance that he was to some degree...normal. A human capable of the most basic act of species preservation.

His thoughts turned to Leia in the shower that morning, trying to muffle her laughter as they twisted around one another in the small space. The sheen of the water on her skin. Wet strands of hair clinging to her cheeks and throat. There was something about being with someone. Something about being with Leia.

It made being human _important_.

The hours passed, and he kept watching the general transmissions from Mandalore. It was highly unlikely that Bo-Katan would announce Leia’s presence publically, but there might be some indication. A tightening of security, a meeting of the clan leaders. Something. Anything.

_Stay focused._

Patience was one of the first skills his dad taught him. Patience was essential. Brevar would take his break and he would be alone in the comm center. Copying the file wouldn’t take more than a few minutes. Once it was copied to a data cube he could get a signal out to Rite. She might even have something in place.

He had to force himself to eat during his break, to react to the conversations in the mess hall, to keep any sign of worry or impatience in check. He walked over to the base child care, but Ben was still at the school for his sword lessons. They assured him that one of the staff members would walk over to collect the students when the lesson was done.

As soon as he clocked back in he checked the comms from Sundari.

Nothing.

It was almost _too_ quiet.

He was counting down the minutes to Brevar’s break when Fenn Rau strode in, his face a mask.

“There’s about to be an emergency briefing in this room,” he announced as Commander Turek entered behind him. The other guards followed her, their faces echoing the tension and and confusion that Boba could feel in the pit of his stomach.

What the _fek_ had happened?

“We have a situation,” Commander Turek announced, bringing up a holographic projection in the center of the room. “A heavily armed First Order fleet has entered Concordian space. They’re headed right for us.”

The shocked silence that descended over the guards didn’t last long. “How did they get through the perimeter?”

“Someone diverted two of the squadrons,” Turek replied. “The orders came from Sundari. That’s all I know.”

“Are we sure this is an invasion?” One guard questioned. “Maybe the _Mand’alor_ decided to treat with them.”

“And just forgot to tell us?” Another fired back.

“This wasn’t Bo-Katan’s decision,” Fenn Rau spoke up. “Someone decided to take matters into their own hands. And until we know who and why, we can’t count on Sundari to help us.” He turned to address the room. “ _Ba’slan shev’la_. Scatter to the mountains, stay off the comms for a few days. If you have to make contact, use the old hunting code. We’ll roll out the emergency packs, one per family. If you don’t have a family to look after and you’re inclined to stay here…well, I’ll appreciate the company.”

“You heard him,” Commander Turek snapped. “I’ll need help with those packs, so everyone not staying with Rau get your _shebs_ to the docking bay.”

Boba stayed in his seat, quiet and unseen as the others left. It seemed the First Order was tired of waiting, but maybe it wasn’t too late. What if he copied the file and then wiped it from the databank? If he had the only copy, the First Order would have to pay him. And it wasn’t likely that anyone at the base would notice while they were under attack.

“Why are you still here?” Fenn demanded, his gaze still fixed on the holographic projection.

“I’m staying. I want to fight.”

“You have a family.”

It was right there. The file was right there.

Boba turned his chair just slightly, keeping his hand out of sight as his fingers brushed the grip of his blaster. “It’s not a real family, Rau. You know that.”

The older man raised his head and looked him in the eyes. “Looked real enough to me.” He straightened and moved toward Boba, who quickly folded his arms over his chest to avoid signaling his intentions.

“You’re so much like Jango, you know that? The way you look, sure, but also the way you think. The way you see people.” He stood over Boba’s chair, his shoulders tight and his eyes narrow. “And you’re new to this whole ‘having a family’ thing, so I’m going to cut you some slack. But you listen here. Leia isn’t here and you’re all Ben has. You know what it’s like, to be left all alone. You want Ben to go through that?”

“My dad didn’t _leave_ me,” Boba said it through his teeth.

“I’m sure he didn’t want to. But he did.”

He should just shoot the man and be done with it. There was an incredible stack of credits within his reach, and the file was _right there_ , waiting for him. He had a job to do.

But Ben was also waiting for him. Just like he’d waited, once.

Kneeling the sands of Geonosis. Unable to understand what he’d just seen.

_Fek_.

Lights began to flash on the console as the base defense sensors came online. “We don’t have much time,” Fenn said, his voice low. ”Go get your son.” He turned to look at the holoprojection, his back to Boba. A perfect target.

He had a job to do. Boba Fett always got the job done.

_If Snoke gets anywhere near Ben-_

_I’ll keep him safe._

Suddenly he was out in the hall, swearing under his breath as the communications center door shut behind him. No going back now.

Ben jumped to his feet the second he walked through the door, his hands clenched into small, white-knuckled fists. “Are we going to the mountains?”

“Yup. Just you and me.”

“What about mom?”

“Your mom had to go to Sundari for a meeting. We’ll find her when this is over.” The base alarm began to shriek. The First Order fleet was within firing range. “Gather the remaining children,” one of the base teachers said calmly. “We’ll go to the shelter.”

“Come on,” Boba told Ben. “Time to go.”

“I need my dice,” he said, hurrying after Boba in the corridor. “My dad’s dice.”

“Where are they?”

“At home. Under my pillow.”

“Okay. But we have move fast.”

The main street was deserted except for Ghee, who was closing up her shop. The old woman was wearing armor and carrying a battered helmet. “ _K'oyacyi_ ,” she said with a nod. “If we can’t stop ‘em we’ll make it damn difficult.”

They were just beyond the cantina when the first volley hit the shields. The ground shook beneath their feet and Ben looked up at Boba with wide eyes.

“We need to move faster. How about you ride on my back?” He moved the emergency pack to the front and knelt to let Ben climb on his back. The earth rumbled beneath them again. The shields wouldn’t hold for much longer.

“Look!” Ben shouted, pointing up the sky. “Parapods.”

“I see them.”

The shields went down just before they reached the house. In the distance blasterfire began to kick up in fits and spurts, broken up by the occasional grenade. The ground troops had landed and the Mandos were fighting back.

His helmet picked up no heat signatures inside the house. Boba pushed the door open with his foot and lowered Ben to floor. “Get under the table.”

The boy’s bed was neatly made, but the dice weren’t under the pillow. Boba ripped the sheets and blankets back, hunting swiftly for the small golden bauble while the whine of lasers and the boom of explosives grew louder. He returned to the main room. Ben was still huddled under the table.

“I don’t want to go out there,” he said, his eyes wide. “It’s not safe.”

“It’s not safe here either.” Boba grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him out from under the table. “We have to go.” He tripped the heat vision in his helmet.

Six, no seven signatures surrounding the house.

Troopers.

Boba dropped the emergency pack and shoved the table against the door. He scooped up Ben, his injured arm burning from the strain, and drew his blaster. “Hold on tight.”

 

* * *

 

 

It seemed that Tristan’s only real plan for gaining an audience with the _Mand’alor_ was his charm and his family name, which got them pretty far, all things considered. They passed aides and officials and palace security guards, all of whom looked at the yellow and white armor that Tristan and Luke wore and nodded with recognition. One even asked how Tristan’s mother was. Leia couldn’t help but feel conspicuous and a little underdressed.

“Look here,” Tristan said eagerly. “I remember my dad bringing me here as a child and showing me these murals. They honor the Mandalorian crusaders, but the cubist style is considered to be cautionary, showing the darker edges of victory through the mangling of forms.”

“There’s something about this place,” Luke mused, looking around. “It feels...”

“It feels haunted,” Leia said shortly. “Can we keep moving, please?”

Tristan nodded in acknowledgement. “Maybe we should discuss-”

“Stop.” A deep voiced echoed through the hall. Korkie Kryze strode up to the meet them, flanked by four guards in armor bearing military insignia. “What is this?”

“Commander Kryze,” Tristan nodded politely. “I need to speak with your aunt immediately.”

“I regret that she is unavailable.”

“It’s urgent.”

“It always is.”

“Korkie.” Tristan’s voice lowered. “We’ve known one another for years.”

“Yes, we have.” Korkie put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Which is why it pains me to see Clan Wren corrupted by a Republic spy.”

The guards moved as one, stepping back into position with their blasters raised.

“I’m not a spy!” Leia insisted. “I’m a refugee.”

Korkie stepped back, his eyes cold. “Refugees enter our system _legally_. They don’t void their asylum claims by giving false identifications on their paperwork. Take Wren and his companion to detention,” he ordered. “And put this woman on the next transport off world.”

Without a second of hesitation, Leia pulled one of Tristan’s blaster’s from it’s holster and aimed it right at Korkie’s head. “ _Ni copad haa'taylir_ _Mand’alor_ ,” she commanded. “Take us to her.”

Luke’s green lightsaber ignited to her right and Tristan drew his other blaster. The guards remained in place, waiting for Korkie’s command. The _Mand’alor_ ’s nephew smiled and took a step back. “You want to go down fighting. I respect that.” He drew what looked like a sword hilt from his belt and ignited a laser sword as black as night. Leia had never seen anything like it.

But what she found even more transfixing was the energy that seemed to pulse from Korkie Kryze as he held it. The deadly calm in his pale blue eyes. “I’ll handle the Jedi,” he said to his men. “Show no mercy.”

“ _Ke’mot! Udesii!_ ” General Cody abruptly pushed into the midst of them. The old clone’s face was dark with anger. “What is the _kriff_ is going on here?”

“This doesn’t concern you,” Korkie replied, clearly irritated by the interference. “As lead Commander of Intelligence, I am within my rights to detain traitors and spies.”

“They’re _detained_ ,” Cody shot back. “What you ordered was an execution. Now what was all that shouting about seeing the _Mand’alor_?”

Leia lowered her blaster, hoping that the gesture of good faith wouldn’t backfire. “General. I was invited...no, I was commanded by the _Mand’alor_ to come here and meet with her.”

He looked them over, his face unreadable. “And who are you again?”

“Leia Organa,” she said. “Formally of Alderaan. And this is my brother, Luke Skywalker. I’m sorry for concealing my identity before, but my son Ben is in grave danger. Please. Help us.”

“General,” Korkie said, the word a warning.

“The _Mand’alor_ summoned her.”

“And she can question her at her leisure. _In detention_.”

If Leia was sure of anything, it was that she would never arrive at detention. She could feel Luke’s agreement, his readiness.

_Wait_ , she urged him and conveyed the same to Tristan Wren with a look. She didn’t know General Cody, but she’d spent a lot of time with someone who had very similar features. Those sharp brown eyes rarely gave up information. Better to watch the line of his jaw. Boba had a tendency to angle it towards people he didn’t trust.

And right now Cody’s head was tilted as he stared down the _Mand’alor_ ’s nephew. He knew something wasn’t right.

“Let her decide,” Cody said finally, with a swift look at the guards. “Take them to the throne room.”

They obeyed at once. Something that clearly infuriated Korkie, even though he tried to cover it with a smirk. “Does the _Mand’alor_ know that you’re undermining the authority of the commanders that she appointed, or does she just not care?”

Cody looked deliberately down at the saber he still brandished. “Does the _Mand’alor_ know you have _that_?”

The blade vanished, and Korkie returned to the hilt to his belt. “Have it your way. Just like always.” He turned and stalked ahead of them, leading the way.

The throne room was as impressive as the name suggested. Sunlight poured in from tall arched windows, but it was also austere in a way that looked abandoned. Leia half expected that if she ran a finger across the empty throne at the head of the room, it would come away covered in dust.

Bo-Katan stood at the edge furthest from the windows, nearly hidden in the shadows. “Tristan,” she said with a rueful smile. “Of course.”

Cody turned to face the three of them. “I’ve brought you to the _Mand’alor_ , as promised. Now. Your weapons.”

Tristan and Leia gave their blasters to the guards nearest to them. Luke gave his lightsaber to Cody, who turned in his hand with practiced ease and placed it on his belt.

“You’ve held one before,” Luke noted.

“Many times.”

“ _Mand’alor_ ,” Korkie spoke up. “May I suggest that they be questioned separately? Allow me to remove Organa and Skywalker while you-”

“Let me speak.” Leia stepped forward, knowing that the movement would provoke a response. She refused to look at Korkie, or at the guards who pointed their blasters at her with well-trained precision. “This was your idea,” she reminded Bo-Katan.

The older woman moved to face her, her face cut from stone. “I thought you would run.”

“You thought wrong.”

Bo-Katan looked at her for a moment in silence, then arched her brow, the most marginal of permissions.

“I came here as a refugee, and my only intention from the start has been to keep my son safe. By chance, Boba Fett was on the same transport and we decided to form a family unit to increase our chances of entry.” She paused and grimaced self-consciously. “I know that looks strange, considering our history. Believe me, I know. But we are truly married. _Mhi solus tome_.”

Bo-Katan glanced over at her nephew. “Even Korkie seemed convinced of that.”

“Just because they’re fucking doesn’t mean they’re not spies,” he offered caustically.

Leia could feel her brother’s curiosity. For the sake of time and simplicity she had glossed over the nature of their relationship in the transport to Sundari, but here it was critical that Boba’s role as her husband and Ben’s parent was clearly established. She couldn’t hide that complication in her story here...or avoid the feelings that went with it.

**Oh my gods, you’re in love with him.**

“I am _not_ ,” she hissed at Luke before she realized he hadn’t said the words aloud. There was an awkward pause while everyone looked at her with varying levels of perplexion.

“You are not…?” Bo-Katan inquired stiffly.

“No, I am. I mean, we are...fucking.” She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. For the force’s sake she was a grown woman.

**You don’t have to feel guilty, Leia.** Even though they weren’t physically touching, she could feel Luke’s presence around her like an embrace.

_I miss Han every day._

**I miss him too.**

“ _Oya_ ,” Korkie said with clear sarcasm. “Those Fett clones do seem to be irresistible...to some.”

Bo-Katan gave her nephew a warning look before turning her attention back to Leia. “And the posting? That was _not_ an attempt to signal your allies?”

“The post I made from _Bral’ruus_ was an attempt to find my brother. I didn’t tell Boba about it. I knew he would think it was too risky, and obviously it was.”

“But it seems to have worked.” Bright green eyes turned to Luke. “Are you related to Anakin Skywalker?”

“He was my father. Our father.” Luke glanced quickly at Leia.

Korkie snorted and shook his head. “Did _any_ of the Jedi actually remain chaste?” He thumped his own breastplate. “I was sired by Skywalker’s master, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Korkie." Cody's brow lowered.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re still trying to keep it a secret?” Korkie folded his arms over his chest and looked coolly at Leia. “At least that explains your boy’s talent with his _shaapkad_. Fetts seem to only possess talent for the other _kad_.”

“Commander Kryze, you are excused.” The _Mand’alor’s_ voice made it clear that it was not a request.  

“ _Commander_. Good one, Aunt Bo. Commander of _what_? I’ll never have half as much authority as your clone lover.” He sent one last scornful look to the three prisoners. “Do as you like with them. Be a pawn in their games. Perhaps one day we will have a ruler truly worthy of the title _Mand’alor_.” He turned and strode out of the room. His steps echoed in the empty chamber, lingering even after he was gone from sight.

General Cody dropped his chin, and his chest lifted in a sigh.

“I apologize for that,” Bo-Katan said with strained politeness. “My sister insisted that his paternity remain a secret. I tried to honor her wishes.”

Leia looked to Tristan, but their Mandalorian co-conspirator had his eyes on Luke. Her brother was staring at the floor in front of the throne in some kind of trance. “She died in this room,” Luke said, his voice low and gentle. “Obi-Wan...he never stopped thinking about her. There were words he learned. I am alive, but you are dead, I remember you…”

“...So you are eternal,” Cody finished, a rough edge in his voice. “I taught him that. I said it for him, when he was gone.”

No one’s ever really gone.” Luke’s eyes found Leia’s, and a chill ran down her spine. She couldn’t see what he could, but she could feel the heaviness in the air. The weight of grief.

“If Kenobi had stayed with her she might still be alive,” Bo-Katan said harshly. “Everything could have been different.”

Cody raised his head. “You sound like Korkie.”

“Korkie is angry, but he’s not wrong. I have no desire to drag Mandalore into another war and I have very little to gain by sheltering two of the Republic’s most notorious members.” She arched her brow. “That’s your cue, Tristan. Start talking.”


	18. The Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for Boba's POV segment at the end of this chapter, if someone trying to manipulate a child to commit violence would upset you, maybe skip it. It'll be recapped later. It's really no worse then that one scene in Clone Wars where Aurra Sing tries to make Boba murder a clone with his father's face (THAT SHOW WAS FOR KIDS) but I wanted to give everyone fair warning.

“What did you see?” Leia was careful to keep her voice soft. More to avoid distracting Tristan than to avoid being overheard.  He was deeply engaged in an exchange with the _Mand’alor_ , speaking in Mando’a that was too quick and complex for her to follow.

Luke shifted in his borrowed armor and rubbed his breastplate absently. “Obi-Wan was here when the duchess was murdered. He couldn’t save her.”

“That’s terrible.”

“You were right, you know. This place is haunted.” Her brother closed his eyes briefly. “I wish Ben was here with us. I have a-”

“Don’t say it.”

“I’m worried about him.”

“He’s safer with Boba.”

“Has Fett changed that much, since Tatooine?”

“I don’t know. He’s still ruthless, focused, and annoyingly hard to kill. But he really does care about Ben.”

“And you?”

“And me.” She could still feel his fingertips brushing along her jawline and see the fierce light in his eyes as he leaned down to kiss her.

“Whoa,” Luke said quietly.

Leia stared down at her feet, trying to rein in her emotions. “Sorry. It’s been...intense.”

“Yeah. I got that. I-”

“ _Mand’alor_.” Cody broke into Tristan’s conversation with Bo-Katan. Leia caught enough to know that there was some kind of urgent message. She also heard the name “Arla.”

Bo-Katan raised her gauntlet and a miniature version of Boba’s aunt appeared. The tremor in her voice was audible, even filtered through her helmet. “Is she there? Allannia, Leia, whatever the hell her name is. Is she with you?”

“Yes.” Bo-Katan glanced over at Leia. “Why?”

“What about Boba and Ben?”

“No. Arla, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“The First Order took Concordia, that’s what happened!”

All of the air left Leia’s lungs at once, leaving her unable to ask the question that burst from Bo-Katan’s lips. “ _How?_ ”

“That _shabla_ nephew of yours let them through the perimeter.” Arla kicked a piece of rubble at her feet. “The _traitor_.”

The color drained from Bo-Katan’s face. She looked at General Cody, who closed his eyes briefly before opening his own commlink. “Cody to Dock Commander. Has Commander Kryze-”

“He wouldn’t be foolish enough to go that way.” The _Mand’alor_ pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Let him go. If this is what he’s chosen…”

“He has the darksaber.”

“I can’t worry about that right now.” With a gesture she sent Arla’s transmission to a table projector on one side of the throne. Leia hurried closer, straining to see more of Arla’s surroundings. Her heart was racing. Her mind was racing. Boba had promised her. He’d _promised_.

“The comms are dead,” Arla continued. “I can’t reach anyone, even Rau. I don’t know who survived.”

“Leia,” Luke put a hand on her shoulder. “I can still feel Ben’s presence in the force. He’s alive.”

“I’m standing in your house right now,” Arla reported. “Or what’s left of it. Seven bodies, all First Order troops.” She knelt and picked up a ragged scrap of cloth. “This is from a base emergency pack.” It fell from her hand as she drew something else from the wreckage. Ben’s wooden sword.

“ _Haar’chak_ ,” Arla said, her voice rough.

Leia reflexively touched Han’s dice, hidden inside her shirt. She never should have left him. If only she could go back in time and bring Ben with her to Sundari. He would be safe. He would be right here at her side.

“Arla, I need information,” Bo-Katan reminded her. “Where are their forces concentrated?”

“Six cruisers and a two dozen squadrons are pushing towards the mines as we speak. And most of our firepower is out at the perimeter.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Cody muttered. “Why hit Concordia first? Why give us time to mount a defense from Mandalore?”

“Because of my son.” Leia gripped the edge of the projection table. “Arla, were there any ships that split off from the original formation?”

“I’ll check.” She raised a hand to her helmet and for a few seconds there was only the crackle of static from the open line. “A dreadnaught?” She said, sounding puzzled. She pushed a button on her gauntlet and a location map appeared beside her projection, a blinking dot in the center. “It’s off by itself, staying out of the way. Who does that?”

“His name is Snoke,” Luke replied with a grimace. “He’s a sith lord allied with the First Order.”

“He has Ben,” Leia added. It hurt to even say the words, but she knew that they were the truth. _Boba, you promised me._ “That’s why they attacked Concordia first. Someone told them we were there.”

“Someone,” Bo-Katan repeated, her eyes fixed on the location marker.

“I can scramble fighters from Krownest,” Tristan offered. “They’ll get there faster.”

Cody nodded. “Do it. Don’t let them jump.”

“General.” Bo-Katan’s sharp voice cut through the air like a blade.

“The First Order attacked us!” Tristan exclaimed. “Unprovoked! We have a right to defend ourselves!”

“We do, and we will.” Her eyes cut over to Luke and Leia. “But if we go after this ship to retrieve Organa’s son, the First Order will say I was working for the Republic all along. They’ll use it to justify the attack.”

“Don’t go after it, then.” Arla snapped in reply. “But I’m going. That’s my nephew!”

Bo-Katan braced her hands on the table’s edge. “Arla, if they got to Korkie they may have other allies among the clans. We could be starting another civil war.”

Cody exhaled. “You’re right.” Then he drew himself up, his shoulders back. Perfect military posture, in spite of his age. “ _Mand’alor_ I resign as your First General, effective immediately. Arla, I’ll meet you in route.” He started to turn away, but Bo-Katan’s voice pulled him back.

“Wait.”

“I have to go,” Cody told her gruffly. “I would even if his name wasn’t ‘Ben,’ but _kriff -_ You know what I owe.”

Bo-Katan straightened, her green eyes fixed on him. “More than you owe to Mandalore?”

“Mandalore owes my son protection,” Leia cut in. “He’s an asylum seeker, according to your laws everyone who enters the system seeking asylum is guaranteed basic sentient rights, including protection from hostile forces. The First Order has attacked Mandalorian territory, they are by definition a hostile force. Ben has the right to your protection.”

“He _might_ have,” Bo-Katan returned. “Had he entered under his real name.”

Leia was not about to be deterred by that. “Can you prove that’s not his name?” When the _Mand’alor_ only stared at her, she forged ahead. “I confessed to falsifying documentation for myself, not for Ben. Can you produce documents stating that his legal name is _not_ Benezel Joldo?”

“ _Osik._ ” The older woman gave her an exasperated look. “What is it about serving in the Galactic Senate that makes a person ready to argue with a stone slab? This isn’t about semantics. It’s about what’s best for Mandalore.”

“No, it’s about _my son,_ ” Leia said, loudly enough that her voice echoed in the empty throne room. She spread her hand on her chest, over her heart. “ _Ner ad_.”

Bo-Katan’s expression sobered, and her gaze dropped. “I suppose...under the circumstances...there’s only one thing I can do.” She moved to stand in front of Leia. “Leia Organa, _ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad_. Luke Skywalker. _Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad_.” With that, she turned crisply back to the projection table, collecting Arla’s transmission date to her personal commlink. “You have something to add, General?”

Cody cleared his throat. “Just that I’ve never loved you more.”

“Hm.” For a moment her stern features softened.

“What…” Luke questioned. “...Just happened?”

“We’ve been adopted,” Leia told him, barely able to form the words. It was a generous move, but also a savvy one. No one could say that they were being given special consideration now. Now that they were-

“ _Mando’ade!_ ” Tristan shouted as he threw an arm around each of their shoulders.

“You can celebrate later,” Bo-Katan said. She picked up her helmet and lowered it over her head. “Let’s go get my grandson.”

 

* * *

  

Boba woke up with a splitting headache. It all came back at a nauseating speed, the invasion, the missing dice, being surrounded at the house…and then finally the concussion grenade.

Ben, small and helpless against his chest as he tried to shield him from the blast.

 _Fek_. Where was Ben? Leia would skin him alive.

His helmet was gone, and his armor had been neatly stripped of weapons by someone who was familiar with all the ways that Mandalorian armor could conceal them. His wrists were bound in front of him by a set of thick binders attached to the floor by a short chain. Enough slack for him to rise shakily to his knees, but not to stand.

This wasn’t a cell. An interrogation room, maybe, or an audience chamber. There were some curved benches along the wall, but the rest of the circular room was utilitarian and plain. Easy to clean.

The door opened, revealing Korkie Kryze on the other side. “Fett.” He entered the room, his helmet tucked beneath his arm, flanked by First Order troopers. That seemed like a bad sign.

“If this is about that thirty credits, there are easier ways-” His voice dropped off when he caught sight of Ben. A pale man in a gold brocade robe walked beside him, his bony hand clamped tight on Ben’s shoulder. His eyes darted to Boba, but he didn’t say a word. As if he’d been warned not to.

“He’s a child,” Boba growled at Korkie. “You _hut’uun_.”

There was a flicker something in the other man’s eyes. Guilt? Regret? Nothing good was going to happen in this room. Not to him, and not to Ben.

“Comm Admiral Rax,” Boba tried anyway. “He’s not going to be happy about this.”

“I’d say the admiral was already unhappy. Wouldn’t you?”

“He would have that file now if it wasn’t for your _karking_ invasion!”

The man in the gold robe turned his head towards Ben. “See? He doesn’t care about you, or your mother. He was using you to complete the job.” Red-rimmed eyes and an unpleasant leer turned toward Boba. “He was using your motherrrr…”

Boba’s stomach rolled as the pounding in his head increased. This had to be Snoke. “Ben, listen to me. Your mother will come for you. She will.”

Snoke’s smile only widened. “I’m counting on that. But the boy...will be mine.”

Korkie’s head turned sharply. “He wasn’t part of the plan.”

“He is strong in the force,” Snoke replied slowly, as if he was savoring the words. “If you wish to be trained, you must earn your place, Lord Kryze.”

“Are you asking me to compete with a _child?_ ” Anger flashed in Korkie’s eyes. “I gave you a _moon_.”

“And he will give me the defeat of the Republic...once his mother arrives. But don’t pout. You will have a chance to prove your worth.” The sith turned his sunken gaze back to Boba. “Starting with this useless scum.”

Korkie huffed as if the whole thing was a blasted inconvenience and beckoned to the troopers. “Put him out the airlock.”

“No!” Ben cried.

“Silence, boy.” Snoke’s scowl turned toward Korkie. “Kill him here. Make an example of him.”

Korkie set his helmet down on the bench. “I’ll record it and post it. As a warning to those that fail us.”

He turned toward Boba, his jaw set, and drew the saber hilt from his belt. He tried to backhand Boba with it, but even with his hands bound to the floor Boba managed to dodge the blow. The moment he was unbalanced, Boba struck out with a kick that glanced off the other man’s armored shin.

Snoke laughed, clearly delighted by the show. Korkie hissed out a curse and ignited his blade. The darksaber. Even on Kamino, Boba heard tales of it. The legendary weapon forged by Tarre Vizsla himself. The hum of it filled Boba’s ears as the inky black tip swung beneath his chin. It took effort to ignore it, to focus on the man holding it. “Does your aunt know you stole her sword?”

Korkie’s eyes narrowed. “You were injured recently, weren’t you? Some kind of flesh wound?”

He was already back as far as the chain would allow. Korkie slammed a punishing knee into his rib cage and punched him square in the mouth, dropping him to the floor on his side. Right on his injured arm.

 _Fierfekkkk_.

“That must be it,” he heard Korkie’s smug voice somewhere beyond the ringing in his head. Then he heard Ben’s voice, closer than he should be.

“Leave him alone!”

Boba raised his throbbing head and spit out the blood in his mouth. “Ben,” he rasped. “Get back.” But it was too late for that. The boy was pounding on Korkie’s side with the flailing fury of a child while the _Mand’alor_ ’s nephew tried to shake him off.

“Good,” Snoke said approvingly. “Use your anger, boy. Feel the power of it.”

Korkie snarled and threw Ben off, sending him sprawling to the floor. “You want to see power?” He turned back to Boba, his blade angled for a killing blow. “Witness the power of Mandalore.”

“By killing an unarmed prisoner?” He wasn’t completely sure the words would stop him, but they did. Korkie was still Mandalorian, drilled since infancy in the same rules of honor that Jango had once taught him. “You think that will prove your worth to your master?” Boba challenged him. “Unchain me and give me a sword.”

“ _You?_ A sword?”

Boba knew that there was no way for him to win this. Even if he somehow defeated Korkie, who had a reputation as one of the best sword fighters in the Outer Rim, Snoke would simply find another way to kill him. But at least this way he could die fighting.

And as long as their attention was on him, it wasn’t on Ben. “You think you can beat me,” he taunted, struggling back up to his knees. “Prove it.”

“No,” Snoke announced. “Give the sword to the boy.”

“What?” The blade vanished as Korkie turned to face the sith. “Why?”

“Do as I command, Lord Kryze.” Snoke lifted a hand and pulled Ben to his feet with the force and dragged him back to his side. “You want his sword, don’t you?” Snoke asked with a cruel smile. “Take it from him.”

Ben glanced over at the hilt of the darksaber, uncertain.

“Taaaake it,” Snoke encouraged him. “Stretch out your hand and feel your desire.”

“ _Osik_ ,” Korkie hissed as the hilt ripped from his grasp.

Ben had to wrap both hands around the hilt as the blade shot out, black as a starless sky. He stared at it, his mouth agape.

“Feel it…” Snoke whispered. “Feel your hate.”

Ben pivoted and swung, forcing Korkie to jump out of the blade’s path. Snoke laughed and clapped his hands together. “Yes! You have the power now.”

“That’s not a _shaapkad_ and this isn’t a game,” Korkie snarled. “Give it here, _boy_.” He reached out his hand, but the darksaber didn’t even twitch in Ben’s grasp.

“You have a power that he can only dream of,” Snoke continued, his red-rimmed eyes fixed on Ben. “He’s just the bastard of Jedi, but you are... _special_. You can have whatever you desire. You can even...see your father again.”

The blade of the darksaber dropped precariously as Ben stared at Snoke. “My dad’s dead.”

“Death cannot stop a sith.”

Ben’s eyes cut over to Boba. “Can he do that?”

“I don’t know.” An answer that was both truthful and careful.

Snoke lifted a hand and turned Ben, guiding his blade up. “I can teach you...but first...you will dispose of this bounty hunter.”

“No.” Ben’s hands tightened on the darksaber’s hilt.

“Don’t you want to see your father again?” Snoke said it as he was stunned by Ben’s hesitation. “Have you replaced him so easily?”

Tears welled up in Ben’s eyes. “...No.”

“Do it.” The sith’s face darkened. “He lied to you. He pretended to care about you and your mother. He tried to take your father’s place. For that...he should die.”

Boba’s teeth ground together so hard his jaw ached. He wanted to defend himself almost as much as he wanted to snap the sith’s scrawny neck, but his rage would only make things worse. Snoke was the kind of monster who would use him to torture Ben over and over until he broke. The only way to protect Ben was to make the sith believe he’d won.

The invasion would not go unanswered by the Mandalorians. Leia would quickly piece together what happened.

She would see his failure.

Boba exhaled, a shuddering, painful breath around a few cracked or broken ribs. “Ben’ika, look at me.” He forced the words out. “He’s right.”

Ben stared at him, frozen.

“I’m not your dad. It was just a job to me.” The words felt raw and jagged in his throat. “I think you should do what he tells you to do. _Your mother will come for you_. Remember that.”

Ben blinked in confusion and looked at the weapon in his hands. “I...I don’t want to hurt you.”

He could remember saying the same thing to his dad when Jango was teaching him to fight. “It doesn’t matter if you do,” he said, just as Jango had. “The only thing that matters is that you’re safe.”

So many memories looked different now. As if he could see them from Jango’s point of view.

For a short time, he had a son.

He would always be grateful for that.

“I have a better idea,” Korkie said abruptly, drawing an exasperated hiss from his master.

“Take care, Lord Kryze. There is such a thing as _too much_ initiative.”

“What if we bring up the prisoner?”

Snoke blinked, and the blade of the darksaber dropped sharply. Ben gasped as the invisible forces holding him suddenly released. “The prisoner,” the sith repeated, clearly pleased with the idea. “Yes. Bring up the Scourge.”


	19. The Scourge

“We’re closing in,” Cody announced from the cockpit.

Bo-Katan looked around at the people gathered at the holoprojector. “We’re all clear on the plan?”

Leia folded her arms over her chest. The action felt very different in her borrowed armor. “With all due respect, it seems like less of a plan and more like sabotage.”

“Carefully planned sabotage,” Arla corrected her. “Just like the old days. Bo and I will disable the ship. You younger folks can do all the running around and blasting. Kick a few of ‘em in the head for me.”

“I’ll be base command,” Cody added. “Comm channel zeta-four. Are you sure you don’t want a _buy’ce_ , Leia?”

“I’m not used to fighting in one. I’ll use a headband.”

“Same for me,” Luke agreed. He handed his helmet to Tristan with an apologetic look. “I can’t see a thing.”

“You’ll get used to them,” Bo-Katan said, her tone making it clear that it would not be optional.

“What she means is that we’ll help you get used to them.” Cody turned back to the console. “When this is over I’ll-” A blinking light on the comm station caught his attention. “Bo.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s Korkie’s code.”

The image flickered to life on the projector, and Leia’s heart nearly stopped in her chest. Boba was on his knees, shackled to the floor. There was blood on his face and his eyes were glazed over in pain.

“You wanted to fight,” Korkie’s voice rose from somewhere out of the recorder’s range. “Remember that. _Ash'amur puhoi'la_.”

Die slowly.

Luke grabbed her hand and held it tightly as she tried to swallow the rage rising up like bile in her throat. “He’s taunting us.”

“I don’t think so.” Bo-Katan’s gloved hands moved swiftly over the console controls. “It’s a one-way transmission. He opened a channel and left a trail for us to follow.” She went still, her face grim. “He’s with them. Aboard the dreadnaught.”

“It could be a trap,” Tristan said pointedly.

“It could be.”

A new voice rose up in the transmission. “I’ve told you not to use that barbaric tongue in my presence. Speak _Basic_.”

“My apologies.” The recorder moved. Korkie appeared to be using the transmitter in his helmet. Boba vanished, replaced by a withered figure in an ornate robe. Leia exchanged a look with her brother.

**Snoke.**

_Snoke._

“The boy doesn’t need to see this,” Korkie said. “Shouldn’t he be...napping or something?”

The recorder turned, and there was her son. His back was pressed up against the curved wall as if he could melt through it. “I’m not a baby,” Ben protested, glaring at Korkie.

“He will stay.” The doors just beyond Snoke slid open. Four troopers entered, half-carrying, half-dragging a ragged figure who fought them every step of the way with feral intensity.

“Your executioner has arrived, bounty hunter.” The sith announced.

Korkie’s hand appeared in the recorder’s range, a stun collar control in his hand. The prisoner collapsed in convulsions and the troopers hurled his writhing body into the center of room. Boba scrambled back as far as the chain allowed, his eyes fixed on the face half-hidden by tangled hair.

“Oh, _fek_ me,” he muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

“Is that-?” Bo-Katan leaned forward.

“I’ve never seen one up close.” Arla’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “Have any of you?”

There was a lot of mute head-shaking. The Scourge used the armor and helmets of the soldiers they killed, both First Order and Republic. They didn’t need a uniform. They didn’t need to identify one another. They were always connected.  

The Scourge dragged himself up with a guttural cry and the binders around Boba’s wrists released a second too late to evade him. He was slammed down to the floor on his back, the Scourge’s filthy hands locked around his throat. Boba seized the length of chain from the floor beside him and whipped the open binders into his assailant’s head. The Scourge jerked back as blood sprayed out from the gash on his temple, spattering one side of his unshaven face.

“ _Haar’chak_.” Cody swore in a tone of abject horror.

“What is it?” Bo-Katan laid a hand on his arm, but the old clone said nothing as he put his hand over hers. 

They all watched as Boba grappled and struggled his way to the top. He struck the Scourge in the face with a sharp jab, but the motion clearly hurt. He was moving like a man with broken ribs, and in fight like this, it was only a matter of time before he was bleeding internally.

Leia’s hands curled into fists. It seemed like some sort of cruel joke, to be forced to watch this. To be helpless.

“Leia,” Luke said urgently, but she barely heard him.

**Leia.**

Her eyes snapped up to her brother.

**Don’t give in to hate.**

_I can’t do this. I can’t lose everything again._

**We can still save him. We can still save Ben.**

Her pulse slowed to a steady rhythm and her clenched fists relaxed.

**The force will be with us.**

A collective gasp pulled them both back to the fight. The Scourge had managed to throw Boba off, and he wasn’t trying to stand up. He probably couldn’t.

“We’re close enough,” Arla announced, adjusting her jetpack. "Let's go."

“Agreed.” Bo-Katan picked up her helmet. “Stay alive, everyone.”

 

* * *

 

_Get up_ , Boba told himself, but his body didn’t respond. _Get up. Fight._

“Get up,” he heard Ben cry, and he tried.

He tried as hard as he could.

His own breathing rattled in his ears and the room tilted and spun. Time seemed to slow. Why hadn’t the Scourge finished him off yet?

“Was that really necessary?” Snoke demanded, from somewhere on the other side of a moon. His vision cleared just enough to see the Scourge on the floor a meter from him, convulsing in agony.

“I thought you wouldn’t want it to end so quickly,” Korkie responded, tucking the stun control away.

_Die slowly_.

Korkie never considered him to be a real Mandalorian, so why speak _Mando’a_ to him now? Was he stalling?

The Scourge was coming out of it. He opened his eyes and stared straight at Boba with bright blue eyes.

Who was stupid enough to clone Anakin Skywalker?

Clearly, the First Order was.

Without a live template, they probably had to rely on genetic algorithms combined with tissue samples. They must have had brain scans for neural mapping. But when were the scans taken? 

There was intelligence in those eyes, but there was also rage.

“You...you don’t have to do this.” It hurt to breathe, much less talk. “Don’t have to...fight...because they tell you to.”

The Scourge’s eyes narrowed.

“Get them up!” Snoke commanded, and two guards moved forward with pikes in their hands. There was a sharp lurch, the floor swayed beneath Boba. Everyone went still.

“You two,” Snoke gestured at his men. “Go find out what’s going on.”

Korkie touched the darksaber hilt on his belt. “Should I-”

“No. Stay where you are.” Snoke’s voice lowered. “I sense... _weakness_.” He raised his hand, but it wasn’t the darksaber that he summoned to him. It was the stun collar control. He clenched his fist, and the device shattered in mid-air.

The Scourge understood immediately. The balance had shifted. He sprang up from the floor as Korkie ignited his blade. “Stay back,” the Mandalorian warned.

“That is hardly a fair fight,” Snoke said disapprovingly. “Give the Scourge a weapon.”

“My Lord?” One of the troopers questioned in a disbelieving tone.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Commander.”

The trooper tossed his pike to the Scourge, who caught it without looking.

The ship jerked again. “It’s over,” Korkie growled at Snoke, his back to the wall. “You should have honored our agreement.”

“And you should not have been such a weak-minded _fool_.” The sith raised his hand and Korkie’s limbs stiffened. His armored body went rigid, straining as he was lifted up by an invisible force. The darksaber blade vanished and the hilt clattered to the floor.

 Across the room, Boba saw Ben close his eyes.

Smart boy.

“My Lord,” The commander’s voice wavered. “The ship has been damaged. We should-”

“Silence. Cut him open,” Snoke told the Scourge.

The Scourge didn’t move. He stood there, his chest heaving, the pike in his hand.

And then he spun and charged at Snoke.

“Alive, alive, we need him _alive_ ,” the sith cried as the troopers raised their blasters. The first stun blast barely slowed him down, the second made him stumble. The third dropped him to his knees and the fourth took him down. He collapsed at Snoke’s feet.

Korkie dropped bonelessly to the floor as the sith released him. Boba couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead.

“Ready the escape shuttle,” Snoke told his men. “And bring the Scourge.” The remaining troopers lifted the unconscious clone's arms and hurriedly dragged him out of the room. "Come, boy." Ben cringed in terror as the sith grasped his arm. He looked at Boba with wide, fearful eyes. 

He barely had the strength to nod. _It's okay. Go with him. Survive._

“Hurry up." Snoke demanded, pulling Ben along. He stretched out his other hand towards the darksaber. The hilt began to slide across the floor, picking up speed as it moved. It passed Snoke, spun off the floor and snapped into a gloved fist.

Either he’d fallen into unconsciousness or his wife was standing in the doorway in sleek gray Mandalorian armor, her blazing eyes fixed on Snoke.

Leia raised the hilt of the darksaber and the blade shot out. “Get your hands off of my child.”


	20. The Cost

Watching the recording felt almost surreal. Leia remembered seeing Snoke’s outstretched hand as the door opened, and the darksaber hilt on the floor. She didn’t remember reaching out. It was as if the blade spoke to her. As if it whispered her name. 

She knew the weight of it before she ever touched it. She knew exactly how it would fit into her palm. 

Luke always told her there was a difference between using a weapon and using the force.

“How long until the rendezvous point?” Bo-Katan asked as she entered the cockpit and laid her helmet down.

“About two hours standard,” Cody answered without looking up from the holographic projection. “This is my favorite part, right here.” He slowed the recording just as Luke’s bright green lightsaber blade cut through the last of the First Order troopers. “Luke goes low, Leia goes high, force block, dodge...and then Leia _fekking_ cuts Snoke in half with the darksaber. Less than a minute.”

“ _Oya_ ,” Tristan said, almost reverently. 

Arla put her arm around the _Mand’alor_ ’s shoulders. “I don’t know if Mandalore is ready for your children, Bo.”

Bo-Katan gave her a bemused look before she turned her attention to Leia. “Where did you learn to fight with a sword?”

“Alderaan. I enjoyed it more than embroidery.” She stepped back from the projection as Cody looped the recording back to the beginning again. “I should check on Luke and Ben.”

“You might want to stop by the sick bay first,” the _Mand’alor_ told her. “My droid just notified me that Boba is out of the bacta tank.”

“How is he?”

“Uncooperative.”

The _Mand’alor_ ’s ship was designed to operate with a small crew, but still had a fully equipped sick bay. It also had Bev, a 2-1B surgical droid whose primary experience was providing triage to battle-injured Mandalorians. “Oh good,” the droid said when Leia entered. “Reinforcements.” Bev appeared to be loading a tranquilizer gun.

“Put that away,” Leia hurried over to the hovercot her husband was currently trying to escape from. “Boba, it’s okay. You’re safe here.” 

The blankets were twisted around his body and he was sweating from the effort but his eyes were sharp and alert. “Ben?”

“He’s fine, thanks to you.” She reached over to touch his cheek, but he jerked his head to the side, his chest rising and falling.

“Where are we?”

“Bo-Katan’s ship.” She drew her hand back, trying to soothe him with words instead. “We’re on our way to rendezvous with the main fleet.”

“You worked it out? With the _Mand’alor_?”

“You could say that. Lay back,” she urged him. “Rest.” She turned back towards the droid. “Is he stable?”

“Only the medical sense of the word.” 

Leia quickly crossed the room  and shut Bev down. “What about the datafile?” She asked in a low voice as she returned to the cot. “Did you get it?”

His mouth tightened and he shook his head. “Ran out of time. Had to get Ben out.” He exhaled in a short, harsh laugh. “ _Karked_ that up too.”

“Ben told me what happened.” She tugged at the blankets, trying to straighten them. “He also told me...what Snoke wanted him to do.” 

It absolutely gutted her to hear it. To see the raw uncertainty in her son’s eyes. _I didn’t know what to do, Mom. Snoke said he could bring dad back. And Boba said it was okay. He said it was just a job to him._

The bounty hunter’s face might as well have been carved from stone. Bruised, swollen stone. “I said what I had to say.”

“I know. And so does Ben. He doesn’t understand everything, but you were willing to die for him. He understands that.” 

Boba nodded, his expression resigned. “I watched my dad die when I wasn’t much older than Ben. My whole life, the only thing that ever mattered to me was making him proud. Finishing the job. Being the best. I thought that was what mattered to him.” He looked over at Leia with a defeated grimace. “But I get it now. He just wanted me to survive. He knew no one else would protect me. I should have protected Ben first. I should have-”

“Don’t do that.” Leia cut him off with a quick shake of her head. “Ben told me why you went back to the house. He wanted Han’s dice, but you couldn’t find them because I took them. If I hadn’t, you might have escaped. We can’t see always see around corners. No parent can. But you were willing to give up everything for him. No parent...no _father_...can do more.” She reached out and touched the least-bruised side of his face and this time he allowed the caress. 

“I’m not trying to take Solo’s place.”

She raised her eyebrows. “No one ever could. Right now...I’m just glad you survived.”

He leaned into her palm and laid his hand over hers. “ _Fierfek_. Me too.”

“Ben would really like to see you, if you’re up for it.”

“He would?”

She straightened and lifted her gauntlet. “Luke. Could you bring Ben to the sick bay?” Then she returned to Bev and switched the droid back on. 

Bev’s ocular lights blinked at her. “Hello. That wasn’t suspicious _at all_.”

The door opened before Leia could respond. Ben and Luke must have been close by. Ben tore across the sick bay and Leia just barely grabbed him before he could jump on Boba’s cot. “Careful!”

“Wow,” her son said, his eyes wide. “You look terrible.”

“Ben.”

“What’s a few more scars?” Boba’s tone was dismissive, but his eyes moved over Ben with intensity that bordered on desperation. As if he needed to verify for himself that Ben had survived their ordeal. “What about you, Ben’ika? You okay?”

“Me? I didn’t get hurt.” Ben shrugged out of her grip and leaned against the edge of the cot. “Mom says we’re moving back to Sundari. To live in a palace. You’re coming too, right?” His voice rose a little at the question.

“I’m told there’s a very good med center there,” Leia said quickly. She wasn’t sure how exactly she was going to explain her adoption to her son. And she doubted Boba would be pleased to discover that he was now Bo-Katan’s son-in-law. 

“Then I guess that settles it.”

Ben flung himself onto the cot in a clumsy embrace. Leia winced, but Boba waved her off, gritting his teeth a little as he rested a hand on Ben’s curls. 

“I’m glad you’re getting better, _Buir_.” Ben said, his voice muffled in the blankets. 

Leia looked over at Luke, who was doing his best to stay out of the way. This had to feel very strange to him. She started to say something, but the commlink on her gauntlet buzzed, announcing an incoming transmission from Cody. “They found Fenn Rau,” she announced. “He’s on his way here.”

  


* * *

 

Frowning, Cody looked up from the console. “Are you supposed to be on your feet?”

Tristan Wren snorted. “I’m going to say ‘no.’”

Boba ignored them both. Slowly and gingerly he edged along the wall, until he reached a bench along the wall of the cockpit. He was grateful for the insulated flightsuit, because he was probably drenched in sweat. “Leia said the debrief was going to be held here.” She’d also told him to wait until she put Ben to bed, but the second she and the med droid left, he’d started the tedious process of getting out of bed.

He told himself he didn’t want to wait. But he also didn’t want Leia to see him struggle. He could take a beating just as well as he could at twenty, but he was learning the hard way that recovery was now a much longer process. 

Bo-Katan and Arla were at the holoprojector viewing schematics of the Mandalorian fleet. The _Mand’alor_ hardly gave him more than a glance, but Arla came over and gave him a stiff pat on the shoulder. “Good to see you up, Boba.”

She cared about him in her own way. When she wasn’t withholding family medical information it was kind of nice. 

Leia entered the cockpit, her brother at her side, and gave him an exasperated look. “I was coming back to help you.”

“I made it.”

“How’s Ben?” Bo-Katan asked, looking up from the projector. 

Leia hesitated  a second or two before answering. “As well as can be expected. Bev promised to sit with him and recite medical statistics until he falls asleep.”

“That should do it.” The _Mand’alor_ looked over at Cody. “What’s Fenn’s status?”

“Docked and on his way up.”

Leia came over and sat beside Boba on the bench, her eyes assessing. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m fine.”

“Mmhmm.” She clearly didn’t believe him. 

“He’s a Fett,” Arla offered with a smirk. “We’re not lucky but we are hardy.”

The door opened again and Fenn Rau strode into the cockpit. He took one look at the people assembled and let out a short laugh. “Well. This is a surprise.”

Bo-Katan allowed herself a quick smile in return. “It wouldn’t be a party without you, Fenn.”

“So here we are,” he nodded, his expression turning grim. “At war again. Should I give my report first?”

“Please do.”

He tossed a holocube to Cody, who dropped into the projector. The First Order fleet appeared above _Bral’ruus_ , dwarfing the base. “They could have blasted us into powder with that kind of firepower.”

“They did,” Arla said. “I still have that powder on my boots.”

“Once I realized their intent was capture, not kill, I evacuated the remaining staff and civilians through the service tunnels and initiated the self-destruct protocols.” Rau laid his helmet aside and ran a hand through his graying copper hair. “If there was something there they wanted I wasn’t about to let them have it.”

“Something or some _one_ ,” Bo-Katan said. Her eyes cut towards Leia. “There was a sith working with the First Order who was hunting Ben because of his force abilities. He may have discovered where they were hiding.”

“Would they start a war with a neutral system over one boy?” Fenn questioned. “Why not try to negotiate with local authorities? We aren’t allied with the Republic, last I checked.” He looked around again. “But maybe that’s changed.”

“I adopted Luke and Leia,” Bo-Katan stated. “They’re not with the Republic now. They’re with us.”

It was a shock, but one that Boba absorbed quickly. It actually made sense. With Leia’s experience, she would be an asset to Bo-Katan. Where Skywalker fit into it was less obvious, but Cody certainly had enough experience babysitting Jedi. More importantly, Leia would have the protection of Mandalore. She would be safe. Ben would be safe.

“Was there anything else at the base that the First Order might have wanted?” Leia asked abruptly. “Weapons tech...or datafiles that might have been of use to them?” 

Boba had to resist the urge to make eye contact with her. What the hell was she doing? 

“Nothing recent,” Rau replied. “If they were after military secrets, they picked a poor target.”

“But If they _were_ after some kind information, they might hit another database location next.” Leia pointed out. “And if they were willing to break neutrality over it, it must be _extremely_ valuable to them.”

So that was it. She was worried that the Kamino file could still fall into the First Order’s hands. The face of the captured Scourge flashed through Boba’s mind. The hunted look. The desperation in his eyes. He was fighting for his survival in a place where his life meant next to nothing. To the First Order, he was just a failed experiment. 

If the First Order had the Kamino file, they could make more soldiers. More slaves. Without the telepathic mutation, they might not have the same ability to rebel. 

It shouldn’t matter to him. He’d always known the Scourge were clones. 

“There’s a file from Kamino in the archive,” Boba said before he could talk himself out of it. “A formula for a gene therapy they used to keep the accelerated growth from causing mutations. The First Order knows about it. They want to use it on the Scourge.”

Everyone was looking at him now. Leia was a statue at his side. 

“You have very specific knowledge about a highly classified datafile,” Bo-Katan said flatly. “Do I want to know why?”

“Does it matter? The next base might not be as quick to wipe the archive. They could still access the file.”

“Boba’s right,” Fenn Rau said, folding his arms over his chest. “About where the First Order could strike next. Not about the file. It’s not in the archive anymore.” As he spoke, he drew a datacube from his gauntlet. “I went to too much trouble to steal it from Kamino in the first place. I wasn't going to just leave it sitting where the First Order could get it.”

Boba straightened, ignoring the stabbing pain of his broken ribs. “ _You_ stole it. Why?”

Rau smiled tightly and scratched his jaw. “I was pretty young when your dad recruited me. Maybe that made it easier to relate to the clones. I wasn’t the only one of the trainers who felt that way. The gene therapy file, that was just _one_ of the files we stole.”

“Tell ‘em the whole story,” Cody advised. “Especially the part about Luke and Leia’s mother.”

“Our mother?” Skywalker repeated. “You mean...Padmé Amidala?”

“ _Haar’chak_ ,” Rau said in disbelief. “Really?” When Cody nodded in confirmation he rubbed a hand over his face. “The thing was, we needed to get the evidence offworld and to someone powerful enough to take action. Senator Amidala was our first choice because she opposed the Military Creation Act. We copied a number of files relating to the genetic manipulation and accelerated growth of the clones. We figured that would be most controversial. And then something happened. Maybe somebody talked, or maybe nobody did. But Jango started asking questions. Paying too much attention to us. There were searches in our quarters. New surveillance equipment. I never sweated so much in my life.”

Rau paused and shook his head. “I’ll never know for sure, but I’ve always wondered. Political assassination was never Jango’s style. When we heard that there was an attempt on Senator Amidala, some of the others got spooked and destroyed the evidence.” Rau gestured at Boba and Leia. “Can I just say it’s really _shabla_ weird that the two of you are married now.”

“Back to the file,” Bo-Katan prompted. “Tell them how it got to Concordia.”

“Can’t wait to embarrass me?”

“Tell them.”

“Everything fell apart when the war started,” Rau continued. “But I decided the datafile I’d stolen was too valuable. I wanted to put it in trusted hands in case the clones ever needed it.” He heaved a sigh and looked up at the ceiling. “So I had it smuggled to the Governor of Concordia.”

Arla snorted. 

“I’m sorry,” Skywalker said, clearly confused. “Why-”

“That would be Pre Vizsla,” Bo-Katan explained. “He was the governor of Concordia then but also secretly leading the Death Watch.”

“In my defense,” Rau said pointedly, “I hadn’t been home in a while.”

“So you have the file,” Boba said. “And the First Order doesn’t. What about the prisoner? The captured Scourge?”

“Sedated and secured in holding,” Cody told him. “Bev’s been tending to his injuries.”

“And what about Korkie?”

“He escaped during the fight.” The _Mand’alor_ didn’t so much as blink, but she didn’t need to. The faces of everyone around her said enough.

“The _fek_ he did,” Boba said, not trying to hide his disgust. “You let him go.”

Bo-Katan fixed her piercing gaze on him. “You should be grateful for my leniency where my family is concerned, Boba. Otherwise I might have questions about how you came to have knowledge of a database you weren’t supposed to have access to.”

Leia put her hand on his, her fingers tight.

Cody cleared his throat. “You said this gene therapy could be used on the Scourge. What exactly does it do?”

“I don’t know. Make them more like the Kamino clones, maybe.” Boba kept his eyes on the _Mand’alor_. “More susceptible to authority figures.”

“We could find out.” Cody settled back in his seat, drawing a quick look from Rau. 

“You want to test it on the prisoner.” 

“Why not?”

“And if it works?” Bo-Katan asked bluntly. “Then what?”

“If the Scourge can be reasoned with, if they’ll communicate with us…” Cody drummed his fingers on the console. “We could wipe out the First Order pretty easily.”

“You want to make an alliance,” Leia’s voice was sharp. “With the _Scourge_? After they killed... _millions_ of beings?”

Arla shook her head and braced her hands on her belt. “Sorry, Cody, but these aren’t your brothers. They’re monsters.”

“We don’t know that,” Cody insisted. “They were raised to be killers and then turned loose in a galaxy that immediately tried to destroy them. They may not realize they have any other option.”

“I’m with Leia on this,” Tristan Wren said firmly. “Regardless of what was done to them, the Scourge are sentient beings with free will. They have to answer for Sabine’s life and all of the other lives they’ve taken.”

“Nothing can bring back the people we lost.” Skywalker said quietly. “But this may be our best chance to prevent more death.”

Leia stared at her brother, her mouth agape in shock. “You can’t be serious. Han is _dead_ because of them. How many of our friends died? How many innocent people died?”

“Everyone shut up,” Bo-Katan ordered. “Fenn, you’re the technical owner of the file. What do you say?”

Rau straightened. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m with Cody. We have to at least try.”

“So it’s a split vote. You, Cody and Luke for treatment. Leia, Tristan and Arla against. As _Mand’alor_ , I abstain. Which leaves you.”

Boba didn’t realize that the statement was addressed to him until seven pairs of eyes were fixed on him. Waiting. 

“I vote with Leia,” he said immediately. 

“You vote with her, but do you agree with her?” Skywalker questioned. 

“Butt out, Jedi.”

“You don’t?” Leia leaned back, searching his face. “Why?”

“I’m voting with you,” he repeated stubbornly. 

“That’s not what I asked.”

He didn’t want to say the words aloud, let alone with an audience. “You don’t know what’s it’s like,” he said slowly. “To live in a galaxy where people don’t think you have the right to exist.” 

She pressed her lips together briefly. “I thought you didn’t believe in trying to fix things.”

“I don’t. That’s why I’m voting with you.”

“I’ve heard enough.” Bo-Katan announced. “I don’t expect this matter to be solved by debate. It’s too complicated. Particularly now that we know the genetic source of the clones.”

“You know the source?” Leia looked up at Bo-Katan and blinked. It hadn’t occurred to Boba, until that very moment that Leia might not know. But then again, why would she?

“I was wondering about that.” Cody scratched the back of his head. “How is it that neither of Anakin Skywalker’s kids recognize his face?”

“Most of the holos and recordings of Anakin Skywalker were destroyed,” Boba said, his eyes on Leia. “I was one of the people Vader paid to do it.”

“Like I said,” Rau muttered. “ _Shabla_ weird.”

“Of course,” Leia said abruptly, her mouth twisted with bitter amusement. “Of _kriffing_ course.”

“The First Order cloned him.” Skywalker was slowly piecing it together. “With what? I burned his body myself.”

“He lost a hand early in the war,” Cody offered. “On Geonosis. And there would have been records in the Imperial systems. Tissue samples. Brain scans.”

“Then they have the trauma of his injuries,” Skywalker noted. “His grief and his anger. And they probably don’t understand why.”

“Stop it,” Leia said harshly. “You can’t talk me into this. You can’t convince me that there’s good in them.”

“You have the majority, Leia.” The _Mand’alor_ acknowledged. “The final decision will have to be made by the clans, but for now, in this room, it’s enough.”   



End file.
